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MUSINGS. 



MUSINGS 



OF 



A BLIND AND PARTIALLY DEAF GIRL. 



?\ 



BY 

MARY ANN MOORE. 



//JH ? 



% 



PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B, LIPPINCOTT & CO. 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO., 
In the Ofifice of the Librarian of Congress at Washington, 



Lipping oTT's Press, 
Philadelphia. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Authoress's Petition 9 

Childhood lo 

Consolation . . .12 

Try 13 

Secret Sorrows I4 

Submission and Resignation 15 

*' The Servant is not above his Master, nor the Disciple above 

his Lord" 17 

White Clay Creek 19 

For what do I Live ? 21 

Who is thy Friend? 22 

Equality 23 

Charity 25 

Day by Day 26 

Look Above .......... 28 

Forget the Past 29 

Industry 3° 

Acrostic 32 

Perseverance and Patience . . . . . . '32 

The Bible 33 

Lines dedicated to the Memoiy of J. Meredith . . .35 

To the Desponding . 37 

Company 39 

Trials 4° 

Why are we not Happy ? 41 

Usefulness . 42 

To Ada 45 

Invocations ......... 47 

The Bachelor .51 

*i ( V ) 



vi CONTENTS. 

PAGB 

"And let us not be weary in well-doing: for in due season we 

shall reap, if we faint not." — Gal. vi. 9 . . . . 52 

The Past and the Future 54 

The Blind Girl's Lament 55 

Labor 56 

Innocence .......... 57 

Home 58 

Death-Bed Repentance ....... 60 

Lines Addressed to my Eldest Brother while under Affliction 61 
A Resolution . . . . . . . . .64 

Employment ......... 65 

Storms • 67 

Acrostic 69 

Silence ........... 70 

Maryland 71 

Go On 74 

"Where are they now ? . 75 

Kindness 77 

To Addie, on her Sixteenth Birthday .... 78 

Evil Thoughts are Sin 80 

Search the Scriptures ....... 81 

Row your own Canoe . . . . . . , .82 

Bereavement and Consolation 84 

Marriage 87 

Dependency 89 

The Russet Room . 90 

Rainy Days ......... 91 

The Merry Man •' 93 

Life 95 

Hope . 96 

Whereon may we rely ?....... 98 

Beautiful 100 

Lines on the Death of S. L. Moore ..... 102 

Let me see him once More ....... 104 

Thoughts after Attending a Religious Meeting . . . 105 

Be Gentlemen at Home 106 

The Sluggard ......... 108 

Persevere .......... 109 

" Watch and Pray lest ye enter into Temptation" . . no 
God is Everywhere . . . . . . . .112 



CONTENTS. vii 

, PAGB 

Waste not Moments 1 1^ 

Our Two Little Boys 114 

Reflections on my Forty-seventh Birthday . . . 116 

Evening Reflections ug 

To Addie, on her Marriage 120 

On Raising the National Flag 122 

Oh, does He ever think of Me ? . . . » . . 124 

Blessings 126 

A Dialogue 128 

The Old Year 131 

Sad Reflections . . . . . . . .13^ 

Be Ye also Ready . . 134 

To Katie . . -. i^c 

Winter , , .138 

Consolatory Musings 130 

Secret Comfort 141 

Never Safe 142 



MUSINGS. 



THE AUTHORESS'S PETITION. 

Alas ! I am a mournful orphan one, 
Without a home or private means whereon 
To lean secure from want in future years, 
When bound by age or by misfortune's tears. 
Affliction too, of more than common weight. 
Hath seized my form and rendered dark my state, 
Brought partial silence to my outward ear. 
Placing obstructions in my pathway here ; 
Yet I desire to bear above these woes. 
And look to Him who every trial knows; 
To trust His love to make a way for me. 
Whereby I may glide safely o'er life's sea. 
I murmur not at being doomed to pass 
As one belonging to the smaller class ; 
I murmur not at work of hand or mind. 
While struggling on, some self-support to find. 
Toil and fatigue are lighter far to bear 
Than envied favors from another's share ; 
Need to depend on charity is pain 
To those who over plenty once did reign. 
Then, Lord, since Thou beholdest how I stand, 
A guest dependent on the stranger's hand ; 
Since Thou in love and might art pleased to spare 
My mental powers to be applied with carj, 

(9) 



CHILDHOOD. 

Be Thou my friend, and help me to pursue, 
With motives pure, the task I aim in view. 
Oh, hear my prayer, and, if it be Thy will. 
Open a path wherein I might fulfill 
Something that would improve my present way 
And brighten prospects of a future day ; 
Incline kind hearts to largely patronize 
The work of one who toils 'neath gloomy skies; 
Grant me success, that I in time may gain 
Sufficient means myself to well maintain. 
Not self alone, the worthy stricken poor 
Should share the comforts of my gathered store ; 
The mournful and unfortunate should find 
In me a friend of sympathetic mind. 
I covet not the pomp of worldly pride. 
Plenty and peace are more than aught beside, — 
Therefore, of little I could freely spare 
A mite at times to soothe affliction's tear. 



CHILDHOOD. 



Childhood ! how oft a thought of thee 
Casts weight upon my brow ! 

I would I could forget thy charms. 
So changed my fortune now. 

I can but view with starting tears 

This altered life of mine, 
While clouds obscure my riper years. 

Which never darkened thine. 



CHILDHOOD. i£ 

Thy cheerful paths were mostly strewn 

With pleasure's brilliant flowers j 
My little sorrows vanished soon, 

Like childhood's transient hours. 

I feared no future woes or care, 

I roved a girlish thing, 
And little thought gloom and despair 

Would thus around me cling. 

I little thought, when sporting gay 

With friends of early years, 
Their friendship would so soon decay 

If smiles were turned to tears. 

But as maturer years drew on 

I many lessons met. 
Before my sixteenth year had flown 

My stars in darkness set. 

My youthful mind was forced to bow 

Beneath affliction's spell. 
And heaviness stole o'er my brow. 

My heart's deep woe to tell. 

The friends of childhood's happy hour 

One after one withdrew, 
I learned by stern affliction's power 

That friends indeed are few. 

The change is great, its trial doth 

My wounded spirit bow ; 
Oh, memory, cease this melody, 

I cannot bear it now ! 



CONSOLATION. 



CONSOLATION. 

There Is a star, a brilliant star, 
Which lights our mental eye, 

And sheds a peaceful radiance o'er 
Our pathway to the sky : 

That star is revelation's light 

To guide the pilgrim's steps aright. 

There is a joy, a tranquil joy. 
That smooths the mourner's way, 

'Tis resignation's power to yield 
Strength equal to our day, 

Though rainbow hues and sunset rays 

Be hid forever from our gaze. 

There is a voice amidst the gloom 

Of tumult here below, 
That whispers peace beyond the tomb, 

Exempt from care or woe : 
That voice is all-relying faith 
In Him who for us suffered death. 

There is a hope, a cheering hope, 

More precious to the soul 
Than all the pleasures we receive 

From worldly fame or gold : 
The choicest gem to mortals given 
Is hope of entrance into heaven. 



TRY. 



'3 



TRY. 

If you desire to win a prize, 

Despair not ere you try ; 
Perhaps within your power it lies, 

Let not a chance pass by. 

Would you attain to ready skill 
In aught for which you sigh, 

Your hopes will not be crowned until 
With energy you try. 

The depths of science and of art 

Would yet in darkness lie, 
Had not some ingenious heart 

Wisely resolved to try. 

In every place, in every change. 
That gilds or shades your sky. 

There's always something that requires 
Your willingness to try. 

You'll find when error's clouds of gloom 

Or weakness hover nigh. 
There is no way to overcome 

Temptations but to try. 

Misfortunes, wrong, or pain, may oft 
Cause tears to dim your eye ; 

Oh, whisper, v/hile you look aloft, 
These woes to bear I' II try I 



14 



SECRET SORROWS. 

Press through your cares, and bear in mind, 

Until the day you die, 
No great attainments are secured 

Unless you nobly try. 

Although at first it may appear 

Your efforts are in vain. 
Be not dismayed at having failed, 

Be firm, and try again. 



SECRET SORROWS. 

How often we gaze on a smiling face 

And think it an emblem of inward peace ! 

How oft we imagine happiness lies 

In glittering mansions of gorgeous size ! 

Alas ! how mistaken to thus suppose 

Externals doth the inward truth disclose ! 

How far from plain reality the sight 

That gilds lifers fairy picture dazzling bright ! 

How far from human nature's power to scan 

The secret struggles of a brother man ! 

None know the trials others have to bear, 

None feel the weight of one another's share. 

Too oft we see lips smile upon a throng, 

While the heart aches under some secret wrong ! 

Too oft 'midst wealth or splendor's grand display 

The tyrant's mandate fond ones must obey ; 

Too oft injured spirits unheeded sigh 

At lost affection's co|d, averted eye. 

Their woes unknown unto the world at large, 

•They live unpitied 'neath their hidden charge; 



SUBMISSION AND RESIGNATION 

Whose painful weight is canker to the mind, 
More painful too the closer 'tis confined. 
Ah, many are the hearts that silent bleed ! 
Ah, many are the tear-drops vainly shed 
In paths appearing to the world as all 
For which the soul could yearn or fancy call ! 
Yet bright as those paths to the careless seem, 
They're oft devoid of life's most soothing beam, 
Forbearance, kindness, sympathy, and love, 
A needed solace while we onward move. 
God is the only one who knows the real 
Extent of trials each one has to feel ; 
His watchful eye beholds the inmost truth. 
Attending feeble age, or trusting youth ; 
He is the friend to whom we may draw near 
And safely breathe the secret of each tear. 



^5 



SUBMISSION AND RESIGNATION. 

Every rational being of mature years is doomed to 
experience a variety of trials while journeying through 
life. It matters not of what character our trials are, any 
or all of them are afflictive to our natural dispositions, 
and tend to make our earthly path appear gloomy, rough, 
and difficult. Although many wise and good persons 
have been enabled with Divine assistance to declare trials 
are blessings in disguise, the greater portion of the human 
family find, when forced to labor under annoying circum- 
stances, it is easier to preach than to practice this doc- 
trine, and show by their actions they are far from being 



1 6 SUBMISSION AND RESIGNATION. 

resigned to our situation. While we are permitted to 
glide undisturbed upon the smooth surface of health and 
prosperity, we can unhesitatingly recommend submission 
and resignation to others, whose barks have been seriously 
obstructed on their course by adverse gales of affliction or 
misfortune ; but when our own frail barks become simi- 
larly situated, surrounding gales appear doubly appalling 
to us, and wounded nature reluctantly surrenders to their 
powers. From what does this reluctance proceed, if not 
from a want of resignation to our fate ? I would also ask 
why it is so difficult for us to become resigned to afflictive 
dispensations. Methinks it is chiefly because human na- 
ture is a most singular compound of strength and weak- 
ness, each propensity operating against the other, as is 
plainly represented on one hand by our clinging so firmly 
to the endearing joys of life that our strong wills can 
hardly be brought to submit to a separation therefrom, 
and, on the other hand, by our being so irresolute and 
distressed amidst crosses which we are fully sensible are 
required of us to bear, and our contrited spirits sincerely 
desirous of submitting thereto. Many, when overtaken 
by trials of an irreparable cast, endeavor to relieve the 
weight thereof by engaging in some absorbing employ- 
ment calculated to divert their feelings from an inclina- 
tion to grief and despondency. Such a course is highly 
commendable, although the result cannot be regarded as 
resignation, but a mere momentary escape from the pain 
of dark realities, allowing the wearied mind to rest and 
gather strength from happy forgetfulness. Submission is 
the first and most sure step towards resignation. By that 
step we can with a degree of comfort accommodate our- 
selves to various unaccustomed situations which attending 
circumstances seem to require, while the existence of an 
unyielding spirit naturally produces discontent under 



THE SERVANT NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. 17 

every unfavorable change to which we are subjected. 
Grieving over events which cannot be amended only 
serves to keep mental wounds constantly bleeding, and 
debilitate our already oppressed spirits; consequently it 
is philosophical wisdom as well as our duty to endeavor 
to reconcile ourselves to our situations, whether we have 
been providentially or accidentally placed therein. When 
favored with occasional seasons of calmness, we gain an 
experimental knowledge of submission being conducive to 
resignation, endurance, and contentment ; but, alas ! we are 
also led to know submission is not always at our command, 
the strong yearnings of our nature to retain wanton powers 
or pleasures frequently rise so forcibly in our minds that our 
better resolutions are almost counteracted thereby, render- 
ing the attainment of a resigned state a laborious task, — a 
task accomplished only by a close spiritual warfare under 
the government of the cross, and requiring continual 
watchfulness against the ascendency of a mournful, re- 
pining disposition. 



THE SERVANT IS NOT ABOVE HIS 
MASTER, NOR THE DISCIPLE ABOVE 
HIS LORD." 

Oh, weary pilgrim, should thy faith depart, 
And thou feel comfortless 'midst trials drear. 

Thy Saviour's language may some joy impart. 
To smooth the roughness of thy pathway here. 

Should stern affliction seize thy mortal frame. 
Torture thy flesh, debilitate thy mind. 

Oh, think of Him who on the cross did hang. 
To all the agonies of death resigned. 



1 8 THE SERVANT NOT ABOVE HIS MASTER. 

Shouldst thou e'er need a friend to plead thy cause 
When dark misfortune's cloud o'ercasts thy sky, 

When they who once were true, betray, withdraw, 
Remember Him whom Peter did deny. 

Should pride deride, or malice seek to tire. 
There is a comfort e'en for such as thee — 

The knowledge of thy Saviour having felt 
The self-same trials, when in flesh, as we. 

Then why repine or seek to 'scape thy woes ? 

The servant hath no more required of him 
Than our great Master bore, and knows we need, 

To wean us from our innate love of sin. 

Couldst thou ascend to realms of joy and peace 
By mossy paths of health, delight, or ease. 

Our Saviour's sufferings to redeem our race 
Would be forgotten 'mid such scenes as these. 

So be content to suffer wrong or pain, 

To tread the thorny road thy Master trod, 

Nor think eternal bliss or life to gain 

By smoother paths than was allowed thy God. • 



WHITE CLAY CREEK. 



19 



WHITE CLAY CREEK. 

Though 'midst the scenes of distant wilds 

Decreed by fate to roam, 
This faithful heart cannot forget 

Thy charms, my native home ! 
It still turns to thy peaceful haunts. 

And oft recalls the day 
I sported on the banks which skirt 

Thy waters, sweet White Clay. 

Thou art a stream of length and might, 

Whose name is dear to me, 
Bound by a thousand native ties 

This heart still clings to thee. 
My grand^ire settled on thy soil 

While Britain held her sway, 
And through two bloody wars he kept 

His lands on thee. White Clay. 

Thy borders gave my father birth. 

He won a damsel fair. 
And by his childhood's home he placed 

His humble dwelling near. 
Through all the ills that filled his lot 

He rarely thought to stray. 
But onward struggled to improve 

His grounds on rich White Clay. 



20 WHITE CLAY CREEK. 

'Twas in that cot among thy hills 

I first drew mortal breath ; 
'Twas there two infant brothers sank 

In the cold arms of death ; 
'Twas there we children all found birth; 

But ere our childhood's day- 
Had fled, our father chose a home 

Some farther down White Clay. 

Though changed our home, thy waters rolled 

With wonted music sweet. 
Thy hills with waving verdure bloomed 

Around our new retreat ; 
Thy valleys there with beauty smile. 

The zephyrs gently play 
Among the groves and woodland bowers 

Which shade thy course. White Clay. 

Amidst those scenes of wild delight, 

Where nature's richest dyes 
Are nurtured by the fertile soil 

Thy wayward stream supplies. 
The transient hours of thoughtless youth. 

Alternate grave and gay, 
I passed, with friends whose homes were cast 

Near mine, on thee. White Clay. 

Though changes mark the flight of time. 

And youth's bright dreams are past. 
These feelings warm through every clime. 

Through every change, shall last. 
Remembrance oft will gild those hours. 

Though I be far away, 
I'll ne'er forget the beauty of 

Thy borders, grand White Clay. 



FOR WHAT DO I LIVE? 2 1 



FOR WHAT DO 1 LIVE? 

I LIVE not to covet the honor of fame, 

'Tis an empty bubble, a mere sounding name; 

I live not to bask in the sunshine of ease. 

Nor drink the bright waters of joy's smiling seas. 

The beauties of nature are hid from my gaze. 
The tints of the rainbow or sunset's mild rays 
Have no charm for me, though their beautiful stain 
Reflects on the hill-top again and again. 

From spring-time to autumn in brilliant array 
Sweet flowers proudly wave by the side of my way, 
While numberless stars in the clear azure sky 
Seem to mock with their beams the gloom of my eye. 

The bright-feathered songsters, whose melodies swell 
With summer's soft breezes through forest and dell, 
Revisit our clime, do their work and depart. 
Without stirring with bliss one chord in my heart. 

But a region there is where flowers never die. 

Where stars meet no cloud in their course through the sky. 

Where pure streams of rapture perpetually roll, 

And sounds of sweet melody gladden the soul. 

I live to prepare for a home in that spot 
Where trials and care are forever forgot, 
Where sin and temptation shall no more allure. 
Nor dark clouds of distrust the spirit obscure. 



22 WHO IS THY FRIEND? 

I live to be taught by life's lessons of woe, 
How vague and uncertain our schemes here below, 
How transient the joys which attach us to earth, 
And how slowly we toil for treasures of worth. 

I live to endeavor some comfort to spread 
In the pathway of those who near me shall tread ; 
Sweet sympathy's solace may lighten the load 
Allotted to beings to bear on life's road. 

I live to endure until God's chosen time 
Shall call me from earth to a happier clime, 
To join in the songs of the ransomed above, 
Surrounding the presence of Him who is love. 



WHO IS THY FRIEND? 

Who is thy friend ? Not he who smiles 
When pleasure's cup is running o'er; 

Not he who firmly grasps thy hand 
When welcomed to thy splendid door. 

Who is thy friend ? Not he who speaks 
On thy behalf when fortune reigns, 

Or in thy presence approbates 

That which in absence he disdains. 

Who is thy friend ? Dost thou not feel 
It is not he who seeks to place 

His sport and ridicule on thee, 
By flattering praises to thy face ? 



EQUALITY. 23 

Who is thy friend ? Not he the proud, 
Who covets honor, pomp, or fame ; 

He'll greet thee in an humble crowd, 
In grander places shun thy name. 

Who is thy friend? 'Tis he who stands 
Unchanged midst scenes of sun or shade, 

Who lingers near with ready hands 
When trials are upon thee laid. 

Who is thy friend? 'Tis he who strives, 

In kind compassion, to improve 
An erring habit thou hast not 

Seen necessary to remove. 

Who is thy friend ? The Lord above. 

Who sees and pities all thy fears, 
Who grants thee meekness, patience, love. 

He is thy friend in joy and tears. 



EQUALITY. 



Tell me, vain man, why thou dost scorn 

Thy neighbor's garb, though threadbare worn. 

Why thinkest thou his humble home 

Too small to tempt thee there to roam ? 

Within that cot true peace may dwell. 

And grateful adoration swell 

The inmate's heart, who, like thy own. 

Hath access to the Father's throne. 

Thy God beholdeth all He made. 

Regards His works in sun or shade ; 



24 EQUALITY. 

His rain descends, His warm sunbeam 
Shines on the rich and poor the same. 
That cotter's prayer is dear as thine 
To Him who is alone Divine ; 
Thou art but dust, to dust again 
Thou shalt return \ then why disdain 
Thy lowly brother, who may be 
Thy better in eternity ? 
Think not thy pomp or pride can save 
Thy soul from woe beyond the grave ; 
One common fate awaits us all, 
One final end, one certain call. 
None can escape the stern command 
Proclaimed by Death o'er sea and land ; 
His eye is watching night and day, 
Ready at will to seize his prey. 
The young, the old, the wise, the proud, 
Are placed among his gathered crowd ; 
With him distinction hath no power, 
He has for each a chosen hour. 
One head must as the other lie. 
Low in his icy lap, and die. 
The narrow tomb receives us all, . 
Rank as we may with great or small. 
There side by side do friend and foe. 
The rich and poor, the high and low. 
Together share the self-same lot. 
Nor scorn each other's resting-spot. 
Before the throne all must appear. 
The sentence of the Lord to hear ; 
Like death He acts no partial part, 
But judges equal every heart. 



CHARITY. 



25 



CHARITY. 

Charity consists not merely in proffering physical or 
pecuniary assistance to relieve outward necessities existing 
among the poor and unfortunate, but also requires us to 
cultivate a spirit of toleration and forbearance toward 
those whose opinions or practices may differ from our 
own. An exercise of charitable principles not only pre- 
vents us from indulging feelings of extreme wrath or dis- 
gust, but partially qualifies us to pity or at least make 
some allowance for apparent inconsistencies surrounding 
us, and to regard them as frailties common to human 
nature. In this reasonable disposition real or ideal error 
in others appears to us of moderate magnitude, and a 
glimmering sense of their better properties breaks in upon 
our recollection, by which their reputation is in some 
degree preserved in our estimation, although a powerful 
current of prejudice and reproach be urged against them 
by an excited community. All persons endowed with 
ordinary intellectual powers possess some noble traits 
of mind ; therefore all, notwithstanding their numer- 
ous peculiarities or imperfections, are justly entitled to a 
measure of sympathy and respect from their fellow-beings. 
God, according to His wisdom in creating us, formed 
different individuals with different abilities, virtues, and 
infirmities, which at once accounts for our so generally 
differing in opinion, inclination, and deportment from 
one another. A knowledge of this truth should of itself 
teach us charitable feelings, and show the absurdity of 
expecting others to always think or act according to our 
views when our natural propensities are so variously con- 
B 3 



26 DAY BY DA Y. 

stituted. The origin of error may in most instances be 
traced to some peculiar weakness, or the influence of im- 
proper surroundings, and we plainly expose our own 
weakness when, instead of manifesting strength of virtue 
by maintaining a meek, enduring spirit, we suffer trifling 
annoyances to hastily excite us to immoderate expressions 
of disrespect against those whose actions we disapprove. 
A want of charity is certainly conducive to the growth of 
both guilt and grief, its influence being calculated to 
magnify circumstances, exaggerate representations, injure 
reputation, produce wrath, create enemies, wound inno- 
cence, and too frequently cause the weak, the aged, the 
afflicted, the poor, and the backsliding, although not en- 
tirely destitute of estimable qualities, to fall unfortunate 
victims to remorseless censure and neglect, which adds 
double weight to their already oppressive burdens. 



DAY BY DAY. 



Day by day the helpless infant 
Gathers strength to raise his head ; 

Day by day across his features 
Brighter rays of sense are shed. 

Day by day he makes advances 
From an infant to a man ; 

Day by day his mind matureth. 
The broad scene of life to scan. 

Day by day he plans and labors, 
Day by day his caiies increase ; 



BAY BY DAY. 27 

Day by day new schemes and passions 
Tempt him from the path of peace. 

Day by day the faded landscape 

Regaineth its rich garb of green ; 
Day by day the fruitful harvest 

Assumeth its perfected scene. 

Day by day homesteads and cities 

Rise, and change from new to old ; 
Day by day aspiring students 

Long hid mysteries unfold. 

Day by day man gaineth knowledge. 

Day by day grows old and wise, — 
Wise in judgment, old in habits. 

Old in wrecks of earthly ties. 

Day by day his locks grow hoary. 

Day by day his eyes grow dim ; 
Day by day afflictions gather. 

Stealing wonted strength from him. 

Day by day the humble Christian 

Learns to meekly bear the load 
God's grace hath to him appointed. 

While he treads life's rugged road. 

Day by day the time allotted 

To his portion rolls away ; 
Day by day he marches nearer 

To his narrow bed of clay. 



28 LOOK ABOVE. 

Day by day while pressing forward. 
Death and judgment draweth nigh ; 

Day by day the soul approacheth 
Portals of eternity. 



LOOK ABOVE. 

Oh, weary mourner, faint not on the road. 
But nobly struggle forward 'neath thy load 
Of care, affliction, injuries, and woe, 
The soul's allotted portion here below. 
Where human nature cannot bask in ease. 
Nor finv smooth waters in life's changeful seas ; 
Faint not, nor doubt the .safety of His love. 
Who thus is teaching thee to look above. 

Although the world its cruel lures employ 

To steal away thy higher hope and joy ; 

Though friends forsake, and foes with scornful pride 

Thy kind-intended actions oft deride ; 

Though they thy views of conscience rudely spurn, 

And seek from duty's way thy feet to turn. 

Believe the Lord knows all ; He'll to thee prove 

A friend, enabling thee to look above. 

AVrath, malice, and revenge may day by day 
Exert their power to chase delights away ; 
Sickness and stricken jo)'S may cause a sigh 
To pain thy heart or tears to dim thy eye ; 
Want and dependence may thy portion be. 
Shrouding thy mind in dark despondency : 



FORGET THE PAST. 

Amidst these trials look above in prayer, 

And ask for strength to 'scape the tempter's snare. 

Yes, cheerless mourner, look above for aid 
To bear the weight that is upon thee laid ; 
'Tis there alone thou' It find the helpful power 
That can sustain in trial's gloomy hour. 
God sees thy woes. His grace is able too 
To bear thee up until thy journey's through ; 
Trust in His might, His wisdom, and His love, 
Thy faith will be renewed to look above. 



29 



FORGET THE PAST. 

The past is gone ; soul, let it go, 

And bear its burdens with it ; 
The present yields sufficient woe 

To deeply wound the spirit. 

Ne'er ponder over former ill, 

Which cannot be amended. 
But rather seek thy task to fill 

In what thou art attended. 

The present shows enough to do, 
Wouldst thou but strive to do it. 

Without holding the past in view, 
Or weights belonging to it. 

Those weights oppressed when they occurred. 
And painful seem as ever. 



30 



INDUSTRY. 

When they are in memory stirred, 
Or borne adown time's river. 

Why shouldst thou indiscreetly bind 

Upon thy heart a feeling 
Of gloom which should be left behind, 

Thy present comforts stealing ? 

'Tis folly to obscure thy life 
By bearing burdens double ; 

Therefore let former care or strife 
Thy mind no longer trouble. 

The past is gone ; yea, let it go, 

And waft its trials with it ; 
The shadows of the present throw 

Enough upon the spirit. 



INDUSTRY. 



There are deep lessons of nature's teaching , 

E'en in the tiny insects' sphere; 
Busy ants and laden bees are preaching 

Man should for future want prepare. 

Summer beams with plenteous hoards at present, 
. And earth displays a scene of joy ; 
But in the dim distance winter lurketh, 
Life's outward comforts to destroy. 

Instinctive insects foresee this danger 
Approaching them with stealthy flight. 



INDUSTRY. 

And labor every favored moment 
To gather stores for winter's night ; 

That they a resource may have when trials, 

Impending o'er their future fate, 
Shall rudely descend in swift succession 
■ Upon them with oppressive weight. 

Human life hath also wintry seasons 
Of age, misfortune, pain, and care, 

Which in turn obscure our earthly pathway. 
Producing shadows of despair. 

Do we, like insects, wisely endeavor 
In youth's summer hours to provide 

For the winter of age and dependence. 
Wherein active toil must subside ? 

Do we labor for mental improvement 
Ere talents or strength are impaired, 

That grim messengers, bearing afflictions, 
Shall find us for trials prepared? 

Yon spirit, who is striving to profit 

By lessons allotted to him, 
Will be strengthened to bear life's dark seasons, 

However intense they may seem. 

Thus by striving to follow the pointings 

Of wisdom in patience and faith. 
We in health's pleasant summer may gather 

Treasures for the winter of death. 



31 



32 ACROSTIC— PERSEVERANCE AND PATIENCE. 



ACROSTIC. 

Jealousy is a baneful root, 
Ever producing evil fruit, 
Alarming spirits without cause. 
Laying basis of brawling noise ; 
Offensive acts to quick perceive, 
Urging the mind them to believe. 
Suspecting intents never meant, 
Yielding: false-founded discontent. 



PERSEVERANCE AND PATIENCE. 

Perseverance and Patience surely do aid 
The willing to struggle through cares undismayed; 
They lighten affliction, surmount present ill. 
Disperse threatening danger, great wonders fulfill. 
Their calm prevalence is conducive to health. 
Their combined exercise accumulates wealth ; 
They lead to the fountain of mystery's stream. 
They penetrate depths hid in science's theme ; 
They discover, invent, acquire, and sustain. 
Without them ignorance, want, weakness would reign ; 
They're needful companions on time's varied path. 
They're the beautiful offspring of hope and of faith ; 
They wrestle, they trust, they relieve, they endure. 
The future improve, though 'the present's obscure; 



THE BIBLE. 

They waft mortals above despondency's wave, 
The spirit from fruitless bewailing they save. 
Doubt not, honest reader, the truth of my rhyme. 
Weigh well its maxims in the rough scale of time , 
Though thy pathway be drear, and heavy the weight 
Of changes and trials attending thy fate. 
Thou' It jEind perseverance and patience make strong 
To press through all duties which to earth belong. 



33 



THE BIBLE. 



Pilgrim, what are thy trials that thou goest mourning 
on thy way ? Have friends betrayed thy love and con- 
fidence, enemies wronged thee with slander, malice, and 
scorn, afflictions tortured and debilitated thy frame, be- 
reavements stricken thy wonted joys. Poverty placed her 
restricting hand upon thee, or temptations and weakness 
lured thee far from paths of wisdom and peace, shrouding 
thy once joyous spirit in the dark mantle of fear and 
remorse ? 

Should any or all of these be thy unhappy portion, 
repine not ; but gratefully remember there is one unfail- 
ing source of strength and consolation remaining within 
thy power to approach. 

This accessible source of necessary comfort, so wisely 
provided for every rational being, is simply the Bible, 
represented as the word of God, revealed to holy men 
of old, whom He blessed with an understanding of His 
marvelous power, and is the only reliable outward means 
whereby we can become rightly acquainted with the Divine 
character and plan of salvation. The pages of this sacred 



34 THE BIBLE. 

volume are from the beginning to the end fraught with 
Divine commands, needful cautions, instructive compari- 
sons, miraculous examples, and tender promises of wisdom, 
mercy, and power adapted to every condition wherein 
erring finite man is liable to be placed. Although a great 
portion of the Bible appears sealed to thy understanding, 
if thou truly believest and endeavorest to live according 
to the precepts contained therein, He who in infinite 
wisdom inspired the holy men of old to write it for the 
edification of all mankind will at seasons inspire thee to 
comprehend its mysteries and realize the importance 
thereof. Never wilt thou be better prepared to enjoy this 
precious privilege than in hours of distress, when every 
lippe and prop upon which thou didst depend appears to 
be removed, and the beauties of this world tarnished in 
thy sight. Then and then alone wilt thou be fully sensi- 
ble of thy own nothingness and need of Divine aid, to 
preserve thee in patience under various trials that attend 
thy tribulated journey through life ; then it is thy proud, 
creaturely nature is entirely subdued, and a sincere will- 
ingness wrought in thee to seek counsel from Him who 
thou feelest is alone able to minister to thy exact situation. 
When self is truly abased, a seeking, prayerful, dependent 
spirit is experienced, which naturally prepares the mind to 
availingly commune with the Lord through the mysterious 
medium of the Bible. In this submissive frame of mind 
thou canst in faith listen to the silent teachings of His 
grace as He is pleased to offer them, by presenting to thy 
recollection line after line of His own scriptural language, 
whose mysteries thy trial-taught understanding can ap- 
preciate and apply to thy own particular state. Thus 
thou mayest under circumstances of every character find 
in the Bible a refuge filled with the refreshing waters of 
instruction, preservation, encouragement, and consola- 



TO THE MEMORY OF J. MEREDITH. 35 

tion, wherein thou canst secretly bathe thy wearied soul 
independent of human aid or restriction. 

Within that book of holy writ 

Kind promises are given, 
To cheer the weary pilgrim on 

His rugged course to heaven. 

There's not a mind, howe'er so tried 

With pain or sin or sadness. 
Who may not in the Bible find 

A source of strength and gladness. 

To all that's tried with dark dismay 

Those promises were given ; 
Then nobly struggle on thy way, 

There's rest for thee in heaven. 



LINES 

DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF J. MEREDITH. 

When last I grasped thy feeble hand and heard thy fond 

farewell, 
Hope whispered we might meet again ere death would 

sound his knell 
To summon thee from us, who loved thy presence here so 

well. 

We left, and I with sad regret my future prospect viewed. 
For even then stern fate decreed that change and distance 

would 
Ere long prevent our meeting oft as I desired we should. 



36 TO THE MEMORY OF J. MEREDITH. 

Oft since that day vain hope hath told of pleasures rich 

in store 
For me, when I in future years might mingle as of yore 
With thee and others whose loved forms I longed to meet 

once more. 

But, ah ! thou hast been called away, and hope's delusive 

dream 
Is hushed 'neath stern reality's dark and remorseless 

stream, 
Whose raging waves cannot be stayed, howe'er too great 

they seem. 

Although we mourn to part with thee, yet why should we 

repine. 
When we recall the past and view the portion that was 

thine, — 
Bereavement, sorrow, pain, and care, dealt by a hand 

Divine ? 

Nor were thy own afflictions all that tried thy tender mind. 
Thy eyes wept tears of sympathy for all the human kind 
Who groaned beneath oppression's scourge, to sin and 
grief confined. 

Through faith and mercy thou didst strive to urge each 

duty on, 
Whilst light and strength of mind were thine to have thy 

work all done. 
And then wait patiently to hear thy Master bid thee come. 

And may thy wise example prove a lesson unto those 
Who knew thy patience, meekness, love, which lasted to 

the close 
Of thy long pilgrimage, when thou hadst hope of heaven's 

repose ! 



TO THE DESPONDING. 



37 



TO THE DESPONDING. 

The flowers are brightly springing 

Within the forest grove; 
The birds are sweetly singing 

Their little songs of love. 

Yet many hearts are weary 

Midst nature's cheerful bloom; 

They feel their pathway dreary, 
And think life's all^a gloom. 

Why are ye thus desponding, 
Sad pilgrims, on your way ? 

Though trials great surround you. 
And clouds obscure your day, 

Ye can derive no comfort 
From yielding to despair; 

It makes your path more thorny, 
Your minds less strong to bear. 

Raise up your drooping spirits, 

And be resolved anew 
To seize each harmless pleasure 

The world may offer you. 

List to the cheerful warblers, 
See the flowers proudly wave, 

As if to bid all nature 

Share in the joys they have. 
4 



38 TO THE DESPONDING. 

Ye are a part of nature, 
Called by that happy band 

To join in cheerful praising 
Your Maker's bounteous hand. 

His works are all dependent 
On His almighty power ; 

And He will ne'er forsake them 
In trial's darkest hour. 

If earth's small things are guarded 

By His protecting care, 
Will He not think you worthy 

His kindest love to share ? 

Then cease your sad repining, 
Nor murmur at your lot ; 

Although your sky be darkened, 
Still trust, you're not forgot 

By Him who loves and chastens 
His children for their good, 

And bids them in their trouble 

Seek peace and strength from God ; 

Who ne'er withholdeth comfort 
When sought by those oppressed, 

But pities all their sorrows, 
And gives the weary rest. 



COMPANY. 3^ 



COMPANY. 

It matters not how great a throng 

I am surrounded by ; 
It matters not how gay their song, 

Or light their revelry : 
They are no company for me, 
Unless some kindred sympathy 
Exists between their views and mine, 
Our spirit's feelings to combine. 

It matters not how high their name, 

Or gorgeous great their store ; 
It matters nothing whence they came, 

Nor what their deeds of yore : 
Their deeds, their home, their store, their name. 
Alike from me no homage claim. 
Unless their present conduct be 
What I approve in some degree. 

I oft feel lonely in a crowd ; 

Though mirth and converse flow 
Without reserve among the group. 

No joy from it I know; 
Because their sentiments appear 
So far from those my heart holds dear, 
I cannot share in their delight. 
Nor with their practices unite. 



40 



TRIALS. 

I'd rather seek some lone retreat 

Where quietness doth reign, 
Than opposite companions meet, 

Or they to entertain. 
Kindred spirits feelings possess 
Which yield each other happiness ; 
While real enjoyment cannot be 
Derived from reverse company. 



TRIALS. 



Trials human nature wound, 
Trials dim the eye with tears, 

Trials everywhere abound, 
Trials darken hopeful years. 

Trials make the cheerful sad. 
Trials break life's strongest ties, 

Trials cause delights we had 
To sink oft no more to rise. 

Although trials' painful sting 
Our spirits with gloom o'ercast, 

It possesseth power to bring 
Us to comfort's fount at last. 

Trials earthly beauties stain. 
Trials wean from treasures here, 

Trials teach us how to gain 
Treasures in a higher sphere. 



I'FI/V ARE WE NOT HAPPY? 41 

Trials soften hardened will, 

Trials give new life to prayer, 
Trials humble us to feel 

Need of God's protecting care. 

Trials innate dross refine, 

Trials prove the Christian's faith, 
Trials make our virtues shine. 

Trials fit the soul for death. 



WHY ARE WE NOT HAPPY? 

Why are we not happy while journeying on 
Through this world which echoes with nature's glad song ; 
Where flowers bloom gayly, precious treasures abound. 
And hope's brilliant prospects lie smiling around ; 
Where social companions exchange smile for smile. 
Whose cheerfulness often our sorrows beguile ; 
Where youth is insnared with the soft voice of love, 
And sincere-hearted friends their faithfulness prove? 
Why are we not happy where scenes are so bright ? 
Because earthly pleasures are subject to blight. 
Its friendships are fickle, and each cheering joy 
Is dimmed by disappointment's cloud of alloy : 
The sunshine of hope and streamlet of gladness 
Being darkened at times by storms of sadness. 
Our wills, our ambitions, also, oft prevent 
Us from choosing the path that yieldeth content : 
Unheeding the voice that rebukes us within, 
Preferring allurements that leadeth to sin ; 
For this we're unhappy, and ever will be. 
While carelessly gliding o'er time's heaving sea; 

4* 



42 



USEFULNESS. 



Its billows bewilder, deceive, and o'erwhelm 

The bark that proceeds without God at the helm. 

If we would be happy and true pleasure know 

While passing the various changes below, 

The will of our Master must govern and sway 

His sceptre of justice in us day by day ; 

The shoals and the quicksands that lurk in our way 

Wreck not our frail vessels if Him we obey. 

His channels are wisdom. His compass is true. 

He'll guide us iii safety lifels rough voyage through; 

His anchor is steadfast. His harbor secure, 

His wages are peace, faith, and hope to endure : 

In His favor alone is happiness found ; 

Seek it there, and thy search with success will be crowned. 



USEFULNESS. 

Stricken mourner, indulge not thy irresolute feelings, 
nor sadly brood over the extent of thy bereavements, 
think not even for a moment thou art as a cumberer of 
the earth, unfitted for practical usefulness on account of 
being deprived of some abilities with which thou wast 
naturally gifted ; but gratefully remember thou hast other 
talents spared yet, which, if rightly applied, will enable 
thee to perform many important services. While thy 
reason is permitted to retain its throne, thy heavenly 
Father, who is the author of every gift, will undoubtedly 
require an increased return of thy several talents from 
their application to various purposes beneficial to thyself 
and others with whom thou mayest be called to mingle. 
Although disease or accident may have prevented thee 



USEFULNESS. 



43 



from enjoying further physical activity, thou canst still 
labor for the advancement of mental improvement by 
reading, meditating, or solving the deep mysteries of 
many abstruse themes, whereby thou mayest become 
qualified to impart useful instruction to others whose 
opportunities of acquiring similar attainments are much 
inferior to thy own. Thy ear may be closed in silence 
to the enchanting murmurs of the rill, the warbling of 
the feathered throng, or the vocal intercourse of social 
companions; yet while thy -eye can behold, thy mind 
comprehend, thy hand participate in necessary engage- 
ments of thy private home, and thy combined exertions 
render partial assistance to fellow- wayfarers journeying 
within thy view on life's road, thou canst perform a work 
of vital importance by contentedly laboring within a 
sphere adapted to thy remaining abilities. If prostrated 
on a bed of suffering, thou mayest there, yes, even there, 
be an instrument of much usefulness, teaching many in- 
structive lessons by thy patient, submissive example, 
thereby so clearly evincing the reality of many Divine 
promises recorded in holy writ, that they who witness thy 
peaceful, enduring spirit may be led to admire and ac- 
knowledge the power of Him who so eminently qualified 
thee to thus minister to their edification. The light of 
thy outward eye having sunk forever in darkness doth 
not prevent thy mental eye from beholding the light of 
the Sun of righteousness, which, if abode in, will show 
thee various paths wherein thou canst labor for the pro- 
motion of general good : it will show thee when and how 
to caution the erring or offer consoling sympathy to the 
mournful and afflicted ; it will enable thee to encourage 
by precept and example a desponding brother, to instruct 
the ignorant, or with open hands of charity to relieve much 
outward oppression existing among the poor and unfor- 



44 USEFULNESS. 

timate. Trifling as these humble services may appear to 
the restless longings of thy proud, ambitious nature, thou 
wouldst find, on remembering our Saviour's parable of 
feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc., they are 
really required duties in the course of Christian life, as 
He plainly declared, "That inasmuch as ye did these 
things unto one another, ye did them even so unto me." 
Thou canst offer no reasonable argument in defense of 
anxiously sighing after far-off and dim attainments which 
thou knowest are beyond thy power to secure, while the 
beautiful objects of simple nature lying around on every 
side are perpetually offering up their hymn of grateful 
content to that Being who brought them into existence 
the same as thee, and designated a respective sphere for 
each to fill. Wouldst thou carefully ponder the lessons 
of gentle instruction which bird, leaf, flower-laden bees, 
and busy ants are teaching, all thy restless yearnings 
would be silenced into peace, under a humbling sense of 
thy own unfaithfulness and ingratitude to Him who 
according to His wisdom allotted a lowly state to thee. 
Thou wilt find 'tis not by great achievements which excite 
loud applauses from the gazing crowd thou canst win the 
immortal crown, but by hearty striving to meekly tread 
the path wherein thy lot is providentially or accidentally 
cast ; however humble, rugged, or lonely that path be, 
thou canst truly live or truly answer the designed purpose 
of thy creation. 



TO ADA. 



45 



TO ADA. 

My absent one, I love thee dearly, 
Better far than words can tell ; 

I would thou couldst still be near me, 
Clouds of sorrow to dispel. 

I miss thy gay and girlish prattle. 
Thy quick step of youthful glee. 

When headlong through all seeming danger 
Thou went bounding forth from me. 

To join thy comrades wild and giddy. 
Sporting o'er the school-house lawn, 

While the dark forest echoed loudly 
With the voices of your throng. 

I miss the pleasure of thy reading. 
None is near to cheer my way, 

And I in silent darkness sitting 
All alone day after day. 

Our rides and walks I well remember 
To our neighbor's friendly hearth. 

Where we of yore were wont to wander 
For an hour of blameless mirth. 

Though, Ada, child, those joys are over, 

And thy feet now wander far 
From all the scenes of merry childhood, 

Treading where broad prairies are, 



46 TO ADA. 

Cast, often cast a thought behind thee, 

On the bliss of bygone days, 
On dear Aunt Mary, who so kindly 

Watched the errors of thy ways ; 

Who was thy friend when seemed no other, 
Listening to thy tale of woe, 

'Midst danger's slander, homeless orphan. 
Thou wast roaming this world through. 

Think fondly of thy aged grandfather. 
Bending 'neath the weight of years. 

Yet for thy comfort very anxious. 
Striving much to soothe thy fears. 

Let us not feel that our devotion 
Has been placed amiss on thee. 

Who from thy hours of helpless childhood 
Claimed our tender sympathy. 

Schoolmates and neighbors cherish feelings 
Kind and true for thee, as one 

With whom in former days they sported 
Ere thou left thy native home 

To journey over plains and mountains. 

Rivers deep and forests tall. 
To seek a father's kind protection 

On the northern prairie soil. 

Should future years strew in thy pathway 
Flowers more brilliant than the past. 

Forget not then thy old companions 
Who were friends in trial's blast. 



INVOCATIONS. 47 

That distance, time, or change may never 

Blight attachments early made. 
True friendship's golden links should ever 

Shine the same in sun and shade. 



INVOCATIONS. 

In thoughtful mood, oh, Father, Lord, 
I would draw nigh to Thee, 

And wait for Thy in-teaching word 
To be revealed to me. 
To see Thee point the way, 
Wherein to walk each day. 

Consistent with Thy righteous will ; 
Looking to Thee alone 
For strength to struggle on 

Until I Thy requirings fill. 

I would approach Thy throne in faith. 

Would kiss the chastening rod ; 
Would I might die a righteous death 

And own Thee as my God ! 

But oh ! how slow to live 

A righteous life, or give 
Self entirely into Thy hand ! 

Willing to bear or do 

Whatever in Thy view 
Appeareth proper to command. 

I feel unable to do more 
Than cast my all on Thee, 



48 INVO CA TIONS. 

And in simplicity implore 

Thy tender sympathy. 

I know I need Thy grace 

To show me my right place, 
But also need a willing heart 

To cheerfully obey 

Thy voice when shown the way, 
Rather than choose the erring part. 

Thou knowest I am nothing more 
Than dust with breath within. 

Wholly dependent on Thy power 
For might to conquer sin. 
Thou knowest, too, how oft 
I strive to look aloft 

In search of some protection there, 
When Satan sends his dart 
Of anguish to my heart. 

With force frail nature cannot bear. 

Forgive then, Father, oh, forgive. 
Nature's defective deeds. 

And at Thy mercy-seat receive 
The prayer my Saviour pleads ! 
Close not Thy ear or eye 
To my soul's tears and cry; 

Though I fall short of serving Thee 
As fully as I ought. 
In action, word, or thought. 

Be pleased my refuge still to be. 

Almighty God, Thy watchful eye 
Beholds each action here below, 

Marks every rising tear and sigh 
That in my Avounded spirit flow. 



INVOCA TIONS, 

Thou seest why it is I grieve, 

The injuries I strive to bear; 
Thy ear is open to receive 

My humble, trusting, silent prayer. 

In secret thought I turn to Thee 
When angry passions darkly fall, 

When scorn or malice frown on me, 
And feel assured Thou knowest all. 

Oh, keep me near in danger's hour, 

Nor let me faint upon the road, 
Guard, guide, and strengthen by Thy power, 

To rightly bear life's common load. 

Grant patient meekness to endure 
Excitement's harsh and hasty tone; 

False accusation's painful sting 

Was on my gracious Saviour thrown. 

Though woes were His, He never fell, 
His mocker's scorn He meekly bore ; 

In pain and death, the Scriptures tell. 
He plead forgiveness with his gore. 

By grace help me like Him to see 
Opponents know not what they do; 

Make me forget their erring deeds. 
And feel forgiveness toward them too. 

That as my heart with mercy swells, 
And charity my thoughts command, 

Mercy Divine may r«st on me 

When at the judgment-seat I stand. 



49 



so 



INVOCATIONS. 

Help me, O Lord, to say. 
Thy will, not mine, be done ; 
Grant strength to tread the narrow way 
Once trodden by Thy Son. 

He well remembers yet 
The sting of mockers' wrath. 
And sore temptations which beset 
The traveler on life's path. 

' He well remembers too 

The frailty of my dust. 
My need of aid Thy work to do. 

Or e'en Thy wisdom trust. 

My cup was His before 
'Twas given unto me ; 
In pity, at Thy throne of power 
He pleads my cause with Thee. 

Then, Father, for His sake, 
Help me to meekly bear 
Each trial that shall overtake 
Me while I journey here. 

Be near when troubles lower. 
Incline my heart to Thee; 
Enable me by faith to soar 
Far 'bove despondency. 

That over dangers strewn 
By error's cruel blast, 
I may through faith in Thy dear Son 
Prove conqueror at last. 



THE BACHELOR, 51 



THE BACHELOR. 

A BACHELOR sad sat alone by the fire, 

And thought of his comrades with envy and ire ; 

Comrades so wise in the morning of life 

As to share their fate with a partner, — a wife. 

A wife, who with judgment could broil them a fish, 

Mend neatly vheir clothing, or wash them a dish ; 

Could chatter and smile, while the fire blazed high. 

To reflect all her charms as the hours glided by. 

" Oh, happy, thrice happy," this bachelor said, 

" These comraaes must feel on retiring to bed, 

To know in the morning a handsome repast 

Will be spread out before them without the dull task 

Of applying the care of their own awkward head 

To frying their meat and to baking their bread ; 

Whilst I, poor, ] >ne wretch ! must awake to the doom 

Of making my bed and of brushing my room. 

Prepare my own ..reakfast, and silently sit 

Alone at the table my plain meal to eat ; 

Untutored, unskilled, to fling the dish-water 

Roughly over my sullied tumbler and platter. 

The hearthstone, the mirror, the casement, all show 

The want of a dear hand to brighten their glow, 

To twine the wild rose and the jasmine sweet 

At the sides of the door till their branches would meet. 

Oh, a hand and a heart that would meet me with smiles, 

When at noon or at eve I return from my toils. 

Would make me forget half the sorrows of life, 

And rejoice in the day I married a wife !" 



5? 



LET US NOT BE WEARY, 



AND LET US NOT BE WEARY IN WELL- 
DOING; FOR IN DUE SEASON WE 
SHALL REAP, IF WE FAINT N O T— 
Gal. VI. 9. 

Mourner, if thou hast never been favored with a sight 
of the beauty of this encouraging language in seasons 
when trials of various character afflicted thy tender mind 
to an extent that caused thy natural fortitude to give way 
beneath their weight, if thou hast not been awakened to 
a just sense of the significance of this caution, which 
continues to be as necessary and instructive at the present 
day as when it was first declared, pause now and con- 
sider how oft thou art weary in well-doing, how oft when 
encompassed with circumstances which cross thy nature 
thou, instead of striving to overcome with watchfulness 
and prayer evils which arise in thy way, yieldest to impa- 
tience, fretfulness, fruitless grief, murmuring, or repining, 
until thy harassed mind becomes so far overpowered by 
their pernicious influence that thou feelest unable to 
longer endure the trials of life, and anxiously yearns to 
be released therefrom, wholly forgetting the cross is the 
only means whereby thou canst expect to receive the 
promised reward. The innate reluctance of human na- 
ture to meekly abide under the cross of trials is the great 
stumbling-block whereon thy good resolutions are so fre- 
quently wrecked, the barrier that so easily obstructs thy 
progress in spiritual improvement, causing thee tJ uncon- 
sciously fall into the above-mentioned gross errors, which, 
when rightly considered, are plain indications of weari- 
ness in well-doing, losing hold of faith, fainting on the 



LET US NOT BE WEARY. 



53 



way, indulging weakness, encouraging the enemy, yield- 
ing to temptation, and shrinking from services Divinely 
required of thee to perform. Thou canst plead no igno- 
rance of knowing the way, canst offer no other apology 
for thy unfaithfulness than unwatchfulness or unwilling- 
ness to obey the inspeaking voice of wisdom, which at all 
times, in all places, under all circumstances, would wisely 
direct, instruct, encourage, sustain, and preserve thee in 
well-doing, whereby thou wouldst experience a qualifica- 
tion to journey on in comparative safety amidst confusion, 
temptation, and distress. Submission to crosses of every 
character is the first and only safe step to be taken toward 
attaining to a resigned, patient spirit, without which thou 
art wholly unable to keep on thy guard against approach- 
ing dangers, to surmount present difficulties, to persevere 
in good resolutions, or even hope, through faith in the 
reality of Divine promises, to reap in due season a rich 
harvest of joy from seeds laboriously sown in sorrow. If 
thou wouldst enjoy a foretaste or secure a well-grounded 
hope of life eternal, thou must allow Patience to have her 
perfect work, wrestle to the end against temptations which 
daily surround thee, remembering it is not until thy course 
is finished, thy spirit's warfare entirely completed, thou 
canst receive the immortal crown. 

Soul, be not weary in well-doing. 

But nobly struggle on thy way. 
Though wrongs, temptations, pain, and sorrow 

Attend thy earthly course each day. 

Be not discouraged nor affrighted. 
Though thy allotted work be great ; 

Toil on, and hope by hearty striving 
To reap joys of far greater weight. 
5* 



54 THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 

Faint not, nor doubt the promised blessing, 
A rich reward awaits thy end ; 

'Tis won alone by faithful wrestling, 
And trusting in the sinner's Friend. 

Faint not, nor seek to 'scape thy burden 
Ere the due harvest-time is come. 

Ere thou art bid to cease from labor. 
And find rest in thy Master's home. 



THE PAST AND THE FUTURE. 

The past, the past is gone forever, 

Whether wisely spent or not; 
The future is not, may be never, 

Granted to our earthly lot. 

The past was fraught with many lessons 

Calculated to improve ; 
The future, should we live to see it. 

May to us less favored prove. 

The past was mingled joy and sorrow. 

Good and evil, hope and fear ; 
The future will alike be mottled 

With alternate changes here. 

The past we can no more recover, 
Though our deeds we may regret ; 

The future ne'er can fill the breaches 
Error in the past hath set. 



THE BLIND GIRDS LAMENT. 

The past is gone, and gone forever, 
Bearing with it wasted powers ; 

The future is to us uncertain, 
The present alone is ours. 



55 



THE BLIND GIRL'S LAMENT. 

I HEAR people talk of the beautiful flowers 
In brilliant array decorating the bowers ; 
Their numberless species, form, odor, and hue, 
Are a subject of chat the long summer through. 
Their form I can feel, I their odor can smell, 
Of their various tints I nothing can tell ; 
Their appearance I strive to picture in mind : 
How vain the attempt, I'm blind, oh, I'm blind ! 

I hear people talk of the rainbow on high. 
Of planets that shine in the clear azure sky, 
Of the beauty of sunset gilding the west, 
Of morning's pale light in the dim distant east. 
I hear the sweet sounds of the wild feathered tribe. 
But their plumage is not for me to describe ; 
Though around me these beauties constantly shine, 
I cannot enjoy them, I'm blind, oh, I'm blind ! 

I hear people talk of achievements of art. 

Of wonders the lessons of science impart ; 

I hear, but to me outward things are obscure. 

My portion is not to behold but endure. 

My path is devoid of a luminous flame. 

Before me, above, all around, is the same ; 

Wherever I roam, only darkness I find, 

I scarce know what light is, I'm blind, oh, I'm blind ! 



56 LABOR. 



LABOR. 



We retire to our rest when shadows of night 
Closely conceal the bright sun from our view, 

But anxiously watch for the early dawn's light 
That we may timely our labor pursue. 

We rise, and with earnest ambition perform 
Each task that we think will add to our store ; 

We regard not fatigue, care, sunshine, or storm, 
If of worldly gain we can gather more. 

We plead the great need of providing for age 
Or sickness while time and talents are spared ; 

We're quick in enriching pursuits to engage, 
Happy in thinking we're for life prepared. 

But, alas ! how many, while toiling to win 
An ample supply for sickness or age. 

Forget the great need of a labor within. 
In which we cannot too early engage ! 

There's a life of eternal comfort or woe, 
To follow our natural life on earth ; 

For which to prepare it is needful to know 
Our minds are acquiring treasures of worth. 

It is needful to watch the dawning of light 
God's grace to the spirit clearly imparts. 

That our mental work be accomplished aright 
Ere the bright sun of our reason departs. 



INNOCENCE. 



57 



INNOCENCE. 

How happy is that pilgrim's lot, 

How free from every anxious thought, 

Whose guarded care to watch within 

Preserves him from the snares of sin ! 

He is exempt from shame or fear, 

His acts will close inspection bear. 

Whoever he may chance to meet 

He can with full assurance greet. 

Remorse or dread mar not his rest, 

While iLnocence dwells in his breast, 

Her presence yields content and peace. 

Her power to soothe will never cease. 

Amidst confusion or distress 

She calmly whispers quietness ; 

A conscious sense of having done 

The right, or having error shunned, 

Preserves the mind from doubt or gloom 

When summoned to the narrow tomb. 

If we on all occasions would 

Withstand the tempter's lures from good, — 

If we in virtue would be strong 

When conscience points the right from wrong, 

E'er choosing innocence to be 

The standard of our destiny, 

Our words, our actions, to control, 

And fit for life or death the soul, — 

Our pr.se. .t load would be more light. 

Oar future prospect far more bright, 



58 



HOME. 



No recollections of the past 
Would then disturb our peace at last. 
Oh, could we bear in mind this thought, 
What care, what caution, would be taught ! 



H O M E. 



My childhood's home, thy banks and streams, 
Loved beauties 'neath my native sky, 

Ye still are mine in foncied dreams, 

Though heights and depths between us lie. 

Though fortune bids that I should roam 
'Midst stranger haunts in distant clime. 

Long will the memory of thy charms 
Within my heart's recesses twine. 

Though stranger haunts, and stranger forms, 
In future years should have for me 

Some charm for which my bosom yearns. 
And once was wont to gain from thee. 

E'en then fond memory will recall, 

Ye rock-clad banks, youth's loved retreat. 

Where oft in bygone days I roamed 
With friends I never more shall meet. 

For eyes are dim, and hearts are cold, 
That once pulsated warm and quick. 

Responding to some kindred mind 

In fonder tones thari words could speak. 



HOME. 29 

And others, whom the hand of death 

Has spared awhile to stem life's tide, 
Were lured from ye, our native haunts, 

And now are scattered far and wide. 

Though strangers now roam through thy groves. 

And friends beloved are far away, 
Still, all thy scenes possess a charm 

For me, which never can decay. 

Yes, in each grove and rock and stream 

My fancy views some past delight. 
Which clings more closely round my heart 

Since fate removed me from their sight. 

Yet I could bid each hill and vale 

Bloom on with crops and flowerets fair. 

As when of yore they bloomed for me. 
Producing treasures rich and rare. 

And oft in silent, sorrowing hours 

I feel a hope within me rise. 
That I again in future years 

Might bask beneath my native skies. 

That I again might listen to 

The streamlet, as it ripples o'er 
The rocks, with the same merry mirth 

As when I heard its sound before. 

That I once more might tread the mead 

And garden where in youth I roved; 
Although I ne'er again may grasp 

The hands of some whose voice I loved. 



6o DEATH-BED REPENTANCE, 



DEATH-BED REPENTANCE. 

Few persons endowed with ordinary intellectual powers, 
and favored with enlightened opportunities, are so de- 
praved as not to desire to die a righteous death ; but far 
too few are sufficiently willing to prepare for such a death 
by endeavoring to live a righteous, self-denying life, unti4 
alarmed with a sight of the pale messenger's near ap- 
proach. Human life has been compared to a day of 
twelve hours, which closes in darkness, wherein no man 
can work ; and the more seriously I meditate upon the 
comparison, the more clearly I perceive the propriety 
thereof, knowing as many days are much shortened by 
the dark shadows of a stormy night, obscuring the earth 
at a premature hour, so in like manner dark shadows of 
disease, producing insensibility or death, frequently over- 
take mankind at a premature age, whereby many are un- 
expectedly deprived of time or opportunity to accomplish 
spiritual labor. I have no reason to doubt the peaceful 
close of many who lived a profligate life until prostrated 
upon a bed of irremediable sickness, when through Divine 
mercy they were favored with time and reason to see their 
end was near, and their want of being prepared to meet 
it; nor have I any greater reason to doubt the danger of 
disregarding the impulse of Divine grace at the time it 
appeareth unto us with a prospect of obtaining peace 
through repentance and forgiveness at what is termed the 
eleventh hour. I have not quite completed my forty- 
ninth year ; yet, on reflecting, can recall more than double 
that number of unconscious deaths which occurred within 
my knowledge during that period of time. I have known 



LINES TO MY ELDEST BROTHER. 6l 

youths treading the most flowery paths of earth, who were 
by accident suddenly hurled from a state of mortal exist- 
ence without one moment's warning, to glance at the past 
or the future, while others of different ages, removed more 
gradually from time to eternity by the power of disease, 
were stricken down into utter insensibility, the darkness 
of which prevented them from beholding their real situa- 
tion or having an opportunity at that solemn hour to 
repent. Although such instances furnish indisputable 
evidence of the uncertainty of life as well as the uncer- 
tainty of what our mental condition may be when placed 
upon a dying bed, we frequently meet with persons who 
seem to be fully sensible of being accountable creatures, 
gifted with souls which must at the end of time appear 
before a Supreme Judge to be sentenced to eternal bliss or 
woe, according to the deeds done while in the body, yet 
sensible as they seem to be of all this, willfully reject every 
caution against practices which they know are open viola- 
tions of the commands of God, preferring to risk the 
safety of their eternal peace to the narrow chance of im- 
ploring pardon in approaching dissolution. 



LINES 



ADDRESSED TO MY ELDEST BROTHER WHILE UNDER 
AFFLICTION. 

Ah, brother dear, my feelings melt 

With tender sympathy for thee; 
Having the same affliction felt 

That clouds thy present destiny. 
6 



62 LINES TO MY ELDEST BROTHER. 

'Tis sad to think that thou and I, 
The eldest of our childish band, 

Should each have light in days gone by, 
In age each must in darkness stand. 

We were companions in our youth. 
At home, at school, in joys, in cares, 

But seem unable now to soothe 
Each other in declining years. 

Though distance, darkness, poverty, 
Forbid aid in the outward sense, 

Methinks our mental powers may lend 
Support in ways of worth immense. 

We may encourage and console 
Each other on our toilsome way. 

And with sincerity of soul 
For one another's safety pray. 

Yes, brother, though we are bereft 
Of nature's gifts in some degree, 

If we employ the talents left, 
We yet may of much service be : 

Of service in the hand of God, 
By precept and example too ; 

Then let us struggle on our road, 
And fill the task we find to do. 

Think not, tried one, because I write 
With seeming calmness of my lot, 

I have of doubting hours lost sight, 
Or nature's weaknesses forgot. 



LINES TO MY ELDEST BROTHER. d-. 

I would not check the flowing tear, 

Nor chide the heavy, rising sigh. 
When sore oppression shades with fear 

The future prospect of thy sky. 

I know, alas ! too well I know 

The trials of a darkened state, 
The ills that from dependence flow, 

The torture of afflictions' weight. 

I would I could thy woes assuage, 

Would I could proff'er outward means 

Whereby infirmities of age 

Might feel secure from scanty scenes. 

But since such favored power is not 

My happy portion to possess, 
Let us in faith commit our lot 

To Him who doth affliction bless. 

That we, amidst the sable gloom 

Which doth obscure our journey here, 

May picture light beyond the tomb. 
Eternal in a Higher sphere. 



64 



A RESOLUTION. 



A RESOLUTION. 

Let others shun the narrow way, 

Or jest of duties given, 
I will not jest the same as they 

Of favors sent from Heaven. 
Let them profane expressions make, 

Or scorn the sacred word, 
The course which leads to peace I'll take 

And strive to serve the Lord. 

He hath to me in kindness shown 

The sinfulness of sin \ 
Taught me His righteous cause to own. 

Eternal life to win. 
He harh my spirit made alive 

By holy grace to see. 
We are not Christians lest we strive 

'Gainst Satan's victory. 

While many wander from His feet 

And join the erring throng. 
He still in mercy seeth meet 

To show me right from wrong 
Since He is pleased to thus unfold 

His purposes to me, 
I'll strive to be one of His fold 

And serve Him faithfully. 



EMPL O YMENT. (, ^ 

Although He may at times appoint 

Strange work for me to do, 
I know He will my powers anoint 

With might to struggle through. 
He'll grant me strength to meekly bear 

Derision for His name, 
If I make it my chiefest care 

His goodness to proclaim. 

Others may trifle years away, 

Abuse ec^ch noble power, 
Defer the labor of their day 

Till the eleventh hour. 
I covet not the transient joy 

Of folly's light reward, 
But choose my talents to employ 

In ways that please the Lord. 



EMPLOYMENT. 

Employment doth beguile 

The weight of moments, while 
Beneath some grievous cross we stand ; 

The sting of grief or pain 

Is oft forgotten when 
Close engagements our thoughts demand. 

We find no time to brood 
O'er shadows which intrude 
Upon the lustre of our way, 
6* 



56 EM PL O YMENT. 

While earnest toil and care 
Our chief attention share 
Through each period of the day. 

It matters not the name 

Of tasks, by which we aim 
To gain relief from burdens here, 

Each task doth power possess 

To yield forgetfulness 
Of ills which make our pathway drear. 

Books, work, or healthful play, 

Though different, each may 
Alike divert the harassed mind, 

Each afford partial rest 

At intervals at least. 
Whence drooping spirits comfort find. 

Oh that all would believe 

The pleasure they receive 
Who carefully employ their time, 

Instead of wasting days 

In fruitless, mournful ways, 
While they life's rugged pathway climb ! 

More happy and more wise 

The scene that round us lies 
Would seem, did mortals in distress 

Their every power employ 

In acts of harmless joy. 
Rather than churlish fretfulness. 

Grief amends not the past. 
Nor restores what is lost ; 



STORMS. 67 

Then ne'er indulge sad brooding o'er 

The common ills of life, 

Laden with gloom and strife, 
But seek employment's cheering power. 



STORMS. 



The day is cold, the sky is dark, 
The autumn winds are sighing. 

And scattered snowflakes place a mark 
On beauties drooping, dying. 

What care I for the outward storm 
That howls around my dwelling, 

While sheltered from all threatening harm 
In rude elements swelling ? 

What care I for the blighting chill 
That withers nature's beauties, 

While by the fireside snug and still 
Musing upon life's duties? 

I heed it not, though dark the sky 
And loud the rough winds sighing. 

While peace and plenty linger nigh 
I've joy's full satisfying. 

But, oh, how sad I feel when clouds 

Of envy near me hover ; 
When wrath and censure's homely shroud 

My wounded spirit cover ! 



68 STOJ^MS. 

Then grief and fear obscure my mind 
And blight each cheerful feeling, 

So that where'er I roam I find 
No solace, sorrow healing. 

Of all the ills that fill our lot. 

None are to be lamented 
More than mental storms which are not 

Oft properly repented. 

They dim the brightest eye with tears. 
They mar home's choicest treasures, 

They darken our most hopeful years 
And rob us of just pleasures. 

Then let us strive to guard within 
'Gainst wounding one another. 

And check the growth of every sin 
That wrongs a fellow-brother. 



ACROSTIC. 69 



ACROSTIC. 

Afflictions, though they're oft in mercy sent, 
Feel to our nature far from mercies lent, 
Far from the plan by which we would begin 
Life here to spend or life above to win ; 
In pain or grief alone we feel how weak. 
Corrupt, and slow we are the Lord to seek. 
The stain afflictions cast on earthly views 
Inclines our hearts the better part to choose, 
Opens our mental eyes to clearly see 
Naught but God's grace can set the spirit free. 

Comfort proceeds from crosses' pinching weight, 
Our peace we seek when bowed by adverse fate; 
Minds learn submission, grateful anthems sing 
From lessons taught by sharp affliction's sting; 
Our faith is proved, our hope of future joy 
Revives, when pain present delights destroy ; 
The dross of metal is by heat refined. 
So trial's heat refines the dross of mind. 

Christians appreciate the wise design 
Heaven hath planned to make their virtues shine, 
Redeemed from dangers innate errors spread 
In strange disguise around the path they tread ; 
Sustained by faith in Him, who tried before 
The scorching flames of all they now endure. 
In patience safely struggle on their way. 
Although obstructions meet them day by day, 
No ills alarm ; they know the chastening rod 
Strikes not in wrath, but to turn souls to God. 



70 SILENCE. 



SILENCE. 

How safe, peaceful, discreet, and irresistible, is the 
power of silence. Even those of immoral principles are 
instinctively compelled at times to acknowledge its rebuk- 
ing effects, having defeated and mortified their evilly- 
intended insults tow^ards innocent persons. The influence 
of silence is so admirably calculated to prevent contention, 
counteract wrath, discourage slander, sustain innocence, 
secure respect, promote and preserve peace, that it may 
be justly considered a safe refuge accessible to all from 
peculiar dangers and errors. Every careful observer will 
admit that much of the evil existing in the world arises 
from unguarded expressions. Heartrending grief or guilt 
may be incurred by a few words incautiously spoken in an 
improper manner. Consequently he who gives due heed 
to silence not only escapes the danger of exciting others 
to error, but in many instances escapes having his own 
feelings wounded by unjust censure or retort from retalia- 
ting opponents, whereby he realizes safe protection from 
guilt, reproach, fear or shame. In silence a man can 
peaceably enjoy his own sentiments, however different 
they may be from the sentiments of those around him. 
By meditating in silence great minds solve the deep mys- 
teries of important discoveries and inventions. 

In silence the inward whisperings of Divine grace, which 
points the right from wrong in every human heart, are 
most perceptible. In silence every rational being can 
appreciate best his own private trials and errors, and 



AIAR YLAND. 



71 



Clearly comprehend the exact points wherein his spirit is 
at variance with the Spirit of God. In silence each indi- 
vidual, however or wherever situated, can availingly peti- 
tion the Divine favor adapted to his own peculiar need, 
and receive a consoling response thereto, independent of 
outward ceremony, aid or restriction. In short, silence 
is a season fraught with extraordinary privileges, beneficial 
to the temporal and spiritual welfare of the whole human 
family. 

Guard well thy lips, for who can know 
What evil from the tongue may flow, 
What guilt or grief may be incurred 
By one incautious, hasty word. 
Unkind remarks or censure wrong 
May bring vice to another's tongue. 
Or anguish to a guileless heart 
Unable to endure the smart. 
'Tis not thy call, contentious man. 
Thy fellow-brother's faults to scan. 
. One task is thine, and one alone, 
It is to watch and check thy own. 
Do this, and silence will ensue ; 
Thou' It find thy own enough to do. 



M A R Y L A N D. 



Maryland, thou land of sorrow, 
Where of yore thy children sighed, 

Where beneath the scourge of tyrants 
Groaning slaves for mercy cried ; 



72 MARYLAND. 

Where, for love of shining silver, 
Men of sordid feelings spread 

Sanction to a trade of torture, 
Careless of the hearts that bled. 

Careless of the ties of nature 

Which God to all mankind gave, 

Cruel statesmen framed a statute 
Human beings to enslave. 

Oh, the horrors which that action 
Spread throughout thy wide domain 

To thy name have brought a stigma 
Which on thee will long remain. 

Years may pass, but thy dark errors 
Long will bear their native stain ; 

Hearts and homes thy customs ravaged 
Their sad memories will retain ; 

Will record them to the coming 
Offspring of thy future years. 

Who will scorn the deeds their kindred 
Suffered from thy vicious snares. 

Not they alone, other nations 
Join in censure and disgust 

At the wrongs of human bondage. 
Cruel, wretched, and unjust. 

Christian light at length hath kindled 
Her clear sympathetic flame 

In the minds of modern statesmen. 
Driving slavery to shame. 



MARYLAND. 

Breaking down the pomp of tyrants, 
Drying tears in weeping eyes, 

Spreading joy throughout thy borders, 
Causing drooping hope to rise. 

Brighter days seem dawning on thee, 
Freedom lends her cheering rays 

To the prospect of the public 
Actions of thy future days. 

Stranger hearts no longer fear thee. 
But seek homesteads on thy soil. 

While the smiles of happy freedom 
Give a grace to honest toil. 

May thy new-born life continue 
To improve with growing age. 

Till oppression's name be blotted 
From thy record's varied page. 

May the Lord of wisdom bless thee, 
Grant thee plenty, health, and ease, 

Crown thy act of Christian mercy 
With prosperity and peace. 



73 



74 GO ON. 



GO ON. 

Pilgrim, shrink not; thou must go on, 
Though drear thy journey be ; 

There is no tranquil rest upon 
The surface of life's sea; 

No place or state existeth here 

In which there's naught to do or bear. 

Go on, and meekly bear the weight 

Allotted unto thee ; 
Where'er thou'rt called, what'er thy fate, 

Guard 'gainst despondency; 
In every state, in every place, 
There is some cause for thankfulness. 

Go on ; thy God will have it so. 

He planneth all things right ; 
He gifted thee with powers to know 

What's pleasing in His sight. 
Be not dismayed, He watcheth well 
The waves that round thy vessel swell. 

Go on, nor for a moment dare 

To think He dealeth hard ; 
The more He giveth thee to bear 

The more He'll thee reward. 
He often hath, and will again 
Renew thy strength, when trials reign. 



WHERE ARE THEY NOW? 75 

Go on, until thy labor here, 

'Midst changes smooth and rough, 
Is done, and He in accents clear 

Shall say. It is enough. 
He'll guide thee safely to His throne, 
And give thee an immortal crown. 



WHERE ARE THEY NOW? 

Where are the loved ones who filled the list 

Of my friends in happier days ; 
Ere care, woe, and affliction had taught 

Me the truth of life's fickle ways? 

Where are the friends with whom I so oft 
In childhood's bright days sported free ; 

When we rushed forth from bondage of school 
For an hour of frolicksome glee ? 

Where are the friends I loved to caress 
And commune with in riper years. 

As we carelessly roamed the green haunts 
Which echoed with youth's merry cheers? 

Where are the friends, I ask my lone heart, 
Who once filled our family hearth ; 

Sharing my every sorrow and joy 

That sprang in the rough path of earth ? 

Where are they now that I thus recall, 
The various friends I have known ? 

Methinks memory seems whispering sad, 
Alas, they are scattered and gone ! 



76 WHERE ARE THEY NOW? 

The gay light-hearted comrades of youth. 

The graver companions of age, 
The partners of domestic events, 

Have all felt the rude hand of change. 

Many fair ones were lured by love's voice 
From their native threshold to stray ; 

Others, anxious for gain or renown, 
Are roaming in lands far away. 

Some, who once basked in plenty and ease. 
Feel want in their household to reign ; 

Beauties, blooming with vigor and health, 
Have yielded to weakness and pain. 

On the brow of the young and the aged 
The cold hand of death hath been laid ; 

And hearts that were true, now are estranged, 
Shrouding joy and hope in deep shade. 

A few loving, long-tried, faithful ones. 
Still linger around my dark way. 

Lending helpful enjoyment at times 
To brighten the gloom of my day. 

Thus sad memory records events 

Attending sly time in its flight ; 
Though her record is varied and true, 

It affords me some thoughts of delight. 



KINDNESS. 



77 



KINDNESS. 

How sweet, when hope sinks into dejection, 

And stern reality exerts her power, 
To feel the solace of true affection 

And sympathy attend that gloomy hour 
Of sorrow. 
Which stripped our path of its most precious flowers. 

'Tis then an act of steadfast devotion, 

A tear of pity, or a soothing word. 
Imparts relief to each sad emotion 

Which trials have within the bosom stirred, 
Preventing 
Inward whisperings of peace from being heard. 

The name and form of life's trials differ, 
Yet all produce a pang of mental pain ; 

Each doth encroach upon some wonted pleasure 
The yearning mind desireth to retain. 
Not seeing 

Our present loss, may be our future gain. 

The pain of bereavement or affliction, 

The burthening weight of anxious toil and care, 
The anguish of wrath, neglect, and slander, 
Lose half their sting when pity feels a share. 
Or kindness 
Lends to the heart its soothing power to bear. 
7* 



78 TO ADDIE. 

Oh that all would cherish feelings tender, 
To scan and lighten one another's load; 

By true sympathetic actions render 

Support to fellow-travelers on life's road, 
Which leadeth 

Through thorns to the worn spirit's last abode. 

Gentle tones, or deeds of soft compassion. 
Cost not the donor aught he cannot spare ; 

He who receives them receives a blessing 

Which partly dries the stricken mourner's tear 
A blessing 

The child of sorrow finds not everywhere. 



TO ADDIE, 

ON HER SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY. 

Dear girl of sixteen summers, though far away from me, 
Thy name I fondly cherish, with anxious hope for thee. 
The sports of merry childhood no longer claim thy care. 
Delights of riper nature thy chief attention share. 
Years of weighty womanhood now dawn upon thy brow, 
With beams of care and pleasure that shall attend thee 

now; 
Oh, mayest thou shun the dangers that lurk in paths of 

youth, 
'Neath tints of pleasing colors, to tempt thee from the 

truth. 
The sun of sixteen summers has rolled above thy head. 
And of thy young companions another one has fled: 



TO ADDIE. jg 



She whom thee loved so dearly, on April's eighteenth day, 
Was called to leave her kindred, and pass from earth away. 
She was not only willing to leave this world of woe. 
But patiently awaited the time when she might go, — 
When she might cease to suffer disease's painful power. 
Which did continue heavy until her latest hour. 
She was, my dearest Addie, the second friend of thine 
Whom death has called so early to quit the scenes of time ; 
The sun of sixteen summers, the winds of sixteen springs. 
Thus blighted hopes thee cherished 'neath youth's decep- 
tive wings ; 
Oh, may it teach thee wisdom the present to improve, 
And not neglect in season to place thy hopes above; 
That, when the clouds of sorrow shall darkly hover near, 
Thou' It have a stable anchor thy wounded mind to cheer. 
Affliction, care, and trouble attend our earthly way. 
But Christ our great Redeemer will prove a certain stay ; 
If we rely upon Him, and strive to do His will. 
He every gracious promise will unto us fulfil. 
Should sixteen years in future strew pleasures in thy way 
More lasting than attended thy childhood's transient day. 
Forget not all the lessons the past hath offered thee. 
But strive to bear misfortunes with patient dignity. 
That when thy toils are over, thy spirit's warfare ceased. 
Thou' It join thy friends in Heaven to live in endless peace; 
There to be of the number the sinless Lamb of God 
Hath cleansed from innate error, and purchased with His 
blood. 



3o EVIL THOUGHTS ARE SIN. 



EVIL THOUGHTS ARE SIN. 

Evil thoughts are sin, said a piously-minded old 
woman, while endeavoring to impart some religious in- 
struction to her little nephew, who stood by her bed near 
the close of her last sickness. Although the remark was 
intended to suit the immature comprehension of a child, 
it bears sufficient weight to convey an important lesson to 
more experienced minds. It is well known that the whole 
human family naturally possess more or less of what are 
termed the animal propensities of mankind, which alter- 
nately rise beyond their ordinary limits, and produce a 
variety of evil thoughts, actions, and consequences ; yet 
so shortsighted is finite nature, and so general the preva- 
lence of those errors, that we are rarely sensible of the real 
sinfulness of their existence. No careful observer can 
deny trifling amusements, disdainful deportment, dis- 
honorable dealings, erroneous suspicions, harsh tones, dis- 
respectful expressions, cherished enmity, direct and in- 
direct injuries, and needless murmurs, are our common 
attendants in life, which on serious reflection must be 
acknowledged as errors resulting from a spirit of levity, 
pride, avarice, jealousy, wrath, strife, malice, resentment, 
or fretfulness, and furnish confirming evidence of the ex- 
istence of improper thoughts. 

Surely, every unprejudiced mind will agree with me in 
thinking whatever is improper is wrong, whatever is wrong 
is evil, whatever is evil is sinful ; therefore evil thoughts 
are sin, because they proceed from and strengthen a dis- 
position which is absolutely incompatible with the pre- 
cepts of the Holy Scriptures. 



SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES. 8l 

It matters not by which one of our evil propensities we 
are influenced, thoughts arising therefrom are of an evil 
character, and have a demoralizing tendency, their preva- 
lence being calculated to encourage temptations, frustrate 
the confirmation of good impressions, impede the exercise 
of virtuous resolutions, destroy a relish for instructive 
entertainments, and prevent us from discerning the actual 
sinfulness of our course, by hardening our spirits, and 
darkening our perception of the inward pointings of 
Divine grace. The indulg-ence of evil thoughts begets in 
us a habit of unprofitable meditation, whereby time, 
talents, and opportunities are wasted instead of being im- 
proved, as they should be, by our devoting them to noble 
pursuits, beneficial to ourselves or others, for which pur- 
pose we were created, and will be required to render an 
account to the Author of our lives when called to exchange 
time for eternity. 



SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES. 

Go search that book of Holy Writ, 

It testifies of Him 
Who is the Way, the Truth, the Life, 

That leadeth us from sin. 

Go search that book, it clearly shows 

He is the only door 
Through which poor erring man can hope 

To find redeeming power. 

Go search that book, it testifies 
He is the Lamb of God, 



82 ^^OIV YOUR OWN CANOE. 

Who came to cleanse us from our sins 
By His atoning blood. 

Go search that book, it teaches us 
We must endure the cross, 

Deny our innate love of wrong, 
Lest our soul's peace be lost. 

Go search that book, its pages glow 

With promises supreme ; 
Of hope and wisdom, love and power, 

Through Jesus' holy name. 



ROW YOUR OWN CANOE. 

Soul, covet not thy neighbor's gorgeous store, 

Nor envy him his luxuries or bliss. 
No shelter seek within another's door, 

On other's aid depend not for success ; 
But plunge thyself into the stream of toil. 
With firm resolve to let no trifle foil 
Thy efforts to obtain the prize in view. 
And independent row thy own canoe. 

Thy God according to His wisdom hath 

Endowed thee with a share of noble powers. 

Although thy lot be cast within a path 

Where fortune hath not strewn her brilliant flowers ; 

Wouldst thou ascend to splendor's gaudy throne, 

Such as thou seest others proudly own, 

Pain not thy life with envious desires. 

But urge thy powers to what thy heart aspires. 



J^OfV YOUR OWN CANOE. 83 

Thou art as able to attain to skill 

As they who labored with success before ; 
As able some important task to fill 

As they who opened hidden themes of yore. 
"With patient energy thy powers apply 
To reach the state for which thou dost most sigh, 
Nor idly rest with envying those who seem 
Blest with a smoother voyage down life's stream. 

By self-exertion only thou canst know 

A. certain pathway to success or fame ; 
A welcome shelter in this world of woe, 

Freedom from selfish prejudice or blame. 
Although thou thinkest some have hoards to spa-re, 
Think not they wish those hoards with thee to share. 
Farther than make thee pleasantly their guest, 
Then leave thee to thyself to work the rest. 

Wouldst thou possess thy neighbor's favored lot 
Waste not thy days in sighing after gain ; 

But with good resolution dally not 

To launch thy bark upon adventure's main. 

Wait not for aid, depend on naught but self. 

And Heaven's blessing, to secure thy pelf; 

[n time thou'lt win ; though fortunes gather slow. 

They're sure to those who row their own canoe. 



84 BEREA VEMENT AND CONSOLA TION. 



BEREAVEMENT AND CONSOLATION. 

Alas ! how sad I often feel 

In my dark, silent state, 
While those around me can enjoy 

Each other's friendly chat ! 

They sport and jest in merry turn, 

Or talk in graver tone ; 
While I though present have to sit 

Silent, as if alone. 

The beauty of earth's richest dyes. 

The sunset's milder rays, 
The rainbow tints, and star-lit skies. 

Are hidden from my gaze. 

Disease hath partly closed my ear. 

Quite robbed my eye of sight ; 
Grace, Faith, and Hope are most that now 

Lend my drear pathway light. 

My fate seems hard to human choice, 

And wounded nature's tear 
Unbidden falls upon my cheek 

To tell the woes I bear. 

But, oh, how weak to thus consent 

O'er transient ills to brood. 
Since I am told that whom God loves 

He chastens for their good ! 



BEREAVEMENT AND CONSOLATION 85 

He doth not willingly afflict 

Nor grieve is child ren here, 

'Tis but to break the power of sin 

And wean us from this sphere. 

Shall I defeat His wise design 

And waste my days in tears, 
Ungrateful for remaining gifts 

Which He in mercy spares? 

Ah, no, I'll cherish faith and hope. 

And strive to kiss the rod 
He hath applied to turn my feet 

From error's fatal road. 

Although my outward path is dark. 

And almost silent too, 
My mental eye and ear retain 

Their power His will to know. 

These precious gifts were surely meant 

To be employed in ways 
More noble and instructive than 

Deploring gloomy days. 

While reason doth retain her throne 

I have a work to do, — 
A work important to myself 

And to my Maker due. 

Would I devote my time and mind 

More fully to His will, 
My thoughts would be absorbed in themes 

That would my sorrows still. 
8 



S6 BEREAVEMENT AND CONSOLATION. 

My mental eye could then behold 
The wisdom He hath planned, 

The strength of His sustaining power, 
And mercy of His hand. 

My mental ear could hear His voice 
The work and way proclaim, 

Wherein He'd have my spirit toil 
And magnify His name. 

I would advance His righteous cause, 
Would tread the narrow way ; 

But feeble nature will rebel 
And lure me far astray. 

I know that's why I often muse 

Unhappy o'er my fate ; 
I know that's why I fail to win 

The joys of priceless weight. 

Yet I will ask my Father, Lord, 
To deal with feelings mild. 

And listen patient to the cries 
Of His unworthy child. 

I'll ask for strength to meekly bow 

And trust in Him alone, 
Till plants of peace shall spring in me 

From seeds in sorrow sown. 



MARRIAGE. 87 



MARRIAGE. 

The wedding is over, the bride and bridegroom 

Are bound to each other through sunshine and gloom; 

Their lot is the same, they together must brave 

The calms and the tempests on Time's changeful wave; 

The misfortunes of one the other must share, 

With frailties of mind they alike have to bear. 

Yet solemnly binding as marriage appears, 

The bridegroom and bride seem devoid of all fears ; 

They flourish and sport as if sorrow or strife 

Could ne'er reach their bark on the ocean of life; 

Their short-tried devotion suspects not the weight 

Of changes and trials awaiting their fate ; 

The nuptial's gay scenes dazzle their present sight 

From dangers which lurk in the future's dim light. 

Alas ! wedded couple, although you begin 

Your journey with joy, thorns too soon will spring in; 

Fond as your hearts are you will find, ere you sail 

Many years, rough winds your joined voyage assail ; 

Your partnership's march will not always afford 

Entire unison of thought, action, or word ; 

Pursuits and opinions delightful to one 

Will oft be of a cast the other would shun. 

Censure, opposition, and wrath will ascend 

To a height that will your affections offend ; 

Beauty's blooming cheek and youth's strong, active form 

With time's burdening cares will lose their power to charm. 

Think not you can always with patience endure 

And smile beneath clouds which your prospects obscure ; 



S8 MARRIAGE 

Will always be ready kind actions to lend, 

Or soft-spoken words, when afflictions attend. 

Think not, though you promise before God above 

Until death each other to cherish and love, 

You always will strive to hold sacred this vow 

And amidst earth's crosses love fondly as now. 

Ah, no, be assured human strength is too frail 

To stand on the watch-tower when trials prevail ; 

No mind is so perfect, so prudent, or true. 

As to constantly keep life's duties in view ; 

No love is so pure that impatience, neglect, 

Will not rise at times e'en toward those we respect; 

No path is so smooth that misfortune or pain 

Doth not o'er its surface successively reign. 

Therefore events likely to darken your day 

Are but common attendants on time's varied way; 

They're not confined solely to one, but to all, 

The fruit they produce is offensive as gall. 

The beautiful language of the marriage vow 

Shields not from these shadows the sensitive brow; 

So humble your feelings, and solemnly pray 

To keep the promise made on your wedding-day. 



DEPENDENCY. 89 



DEPENDENCY. 

None except those who have been tried can imagine 
how saddening it is to human feelings to be dependent, 
nor how sharp the sting of apparently trifling consequences 
frequently resulting therefrom. It matters not in what 
manner we are dependent nor by what peculiar means we 
become so ; if we are unable to help ourselves in either a 
physical or pecuniary sense, our way is generally fraught 
with many lamentable crosses, perplexing impediments 
and disappointments, being in such a state compelled to 
submit to the willingness or convenience of others in 
accomplishing our inclinations, however gratifying or im- 
portant the accomplishment of such inclinations would be 
to our natural dispositions. Dependency is a fate calcu- 
lated to render us unwelcome guests, not only to general 
society, but in many instances to private kindred ; it also 
frequently subjects us to much uncharitable reproach, in- 
different treatment, envied favors, and touching replies 
from persons of whom we hopefully solicit assistance. 
Consequently no sympathetic mind who seriously reflects 
on these truths, of which many among the aged, the 
afflicted, and the poor can experimentally testify, can 
find any reasonable ground for surprise at diffidence, dis- 
couragement, or even depression being the prevailing 
spirit of those who are unfortunately doomed to experi- 
ence the trials commonly attending a state of dependency. 



90 



THE RUSSET ROOM. 



THE RUSSET ROOM. 

Within a small and russet room, 

Upon a downy bed, 
A lonely pilgrim oft reclined 

Her weary, aching head. 

There oft, when midnight's shadows cast 

A sable gloom around. 
That pilgrim in her russet room 

A secret comfort found. 

Although remote from human gaze 

She did not feel alone, 
The presence of the One on high 

With clearness round her shone. 

By humble faith her mental eye 

Beheld His love and might, 
Whereon her spirit could rely 

Through trial's darkest night. 

She saw her every woe and care 

He did with pity view; 
She heard Him whisper, ''Trust and hope, 

I tried thy journey through, 

Each shoal is known unto thy guide. 
No storms shall overwhelm ; 



RAINY DA YS. 

Keep on thy course, nor turn aside, 
Thy Master's at the hehii." 

Cheered by such sweet companionship 
Midst scenes of deepest shade, 

"Although alone, I'm not alone," 
That trusting pilgrim said. 

No wealth or aught we may acquire, 
In paths of light and bloom, 

Can yield the joy that pilgrim found 
Within her russet room. 



91 



RAINY DAYS. 



It matters not how much the earth 

Needs warm, refreshing showers. 
To give to vegetation birth, 

Or cherish drooping flowers ; 
It matters not how long or bright 

The sun hath lent its rays. 
We mostly' grow dissatisfied 

With a few rainy days. 

The raindrops on our neat attire. 

The chill of clouded air. 
The prevalence of dirt and mire 

Abounding everywhere. 
Restriction from our wonted joy 

'Midst nature's haunts to stray. 
All tend our feelings to annoy 

Upon a rainy day. 



92 



RAINY DA YS. 

Our present inconvenience is 

The chief that claims our thought, 
Unmindful of the future bliss 

With which dark hours are fraught ; 
The fields which yield our daily bread, 

The fount our thirst allays, 
Would fail their services to lend 

Were there no rainy days. 

Misfortunes, sorrow, sickness, wrong, 

Neglect, contempt, and wrath, 
In alternate succession throng 

Across our earthly path. 
So much they darken hopes that smiled, 

Make toilsome, rough, our way. 
Their prevalence may well be styled 

The spirit's rainy day. 

Although these trials do appear. 

To our short-sighted view. 
Like floods and tempests hard to bear 

And deep to buffet through. 
They kindly serve as helpful showers 

To rescue from decay 
The feeble roots of noble powers 

Which need grief's rainy day. 

'Tis needed to invigorate 

Us in some wise pursuit. 
Transform us to a proper state 

To show forth perfect fruit; 
For like the outward fount and field 

Which nature's wants allay. 
Spirits would little virtue yield 

Without a rainy day. 



THE MERRY MAN. 

Constant success or pleasure would 

Soon parch the mental soil, 
Wither its growing plants of good, 

Their happy products foil ; 
So callous is the human heart, 

So prone to erring ways, 
So slow to choose the better part 

While spared from rainy days. 

But, oh, when sharp affliction doth 

Oppress, or joys are flown 
From us, how thrifty is the growth 

Of seeds in sorrow sown ! 
Our softened wills can then submit 

To aught God's grace displays. 
And ask for strength to meekly meet 

Our spirit's rainy days. 



93 



THE MERRY MAN. 

''I DO not intend to ever grow old," 

Said a merry-hearted man of three-score. 

Little thinking his strong form would lie cold 
Ere another short six months should roll o'er. 

No, he did not intend to e'er grow old. 
But enjoy what he termed innocent mirth. 

Till called to follow the messenger bold 
And bid adieu to the pleasures of earth. 

Though this he resolved, he could not escape 

From the grasp by which he was from life hurled; 



94 THE MERRY MAN. 

He in usual health at night fel"! asleep, 

But ere morn dawned woke in the spirit world. 

The wisdom or folly of his resolve 

Is neither my business nor wish to scan, 

But needful it seems while moments revolve 
I should be more grave than that merry man. 

Methinks I perceive no sporting of mind 

Can shield me from the weight of years or pain, 

Nor prepare me eternal bliss to find 

When my dust shall return to dust again. 

'Tis certain one final summons will come 

Sooner or later to each human form; 
None of us know whether reason or gloom 

Will attend us amid Nature's last storm. 

None of us know we'll have time to review 
Or repent the past at that solemn hour ; 

Prepared or not, when commanded to go, 
We must yield our all to the spoiler's power. 

Then how needful it is we should employ 

Our talents and time in serious ways, 
If we would secure a prospect of joy 

Should death touch our brows in unconscious days. 



LIFE. 95 



LIFE. 

Life is a varied scene below, 

Of storm and sunshine, weal and woe, 

A scene where disappointments frown, 

A scene where hope oft wins a crown, 

A scene of anxious care and guile, 

A scene where friend lends friend a smile, 

A scene of mingled strife and love, 

A scene displaying power above, 

A scene that's fraught with wonders great, 

Evincing there's a future state. 

Life is a scene of frequent change 
No constant state aught can arrange ; 
Life is one general revolve 
Whose mysteries no time shall solve. 
Youth turns to age, the great 's made small. 
The poor grow rich, the haughty fall. 
The spoiler conquers strongest health 
Without regard to age or wealth \ 
All things sustained by nature's breath 
In time must yield their life to death. 

Life is the time God hath given 
To prepare the soul for heaven ; 
No other time is thine, vain man, 
Thy spirit's future life to scan ; 
No other time to choose the road 
Which bears thee on to ill or good. 



96 HOPE. 

Whate'er thy choice, that choice will be 
The portion measured back to thee ; 
One journey through this vale of strife 
Is man's allotted span of life. 



HOPE. 



Desponding pilgrim, art thou also one of the distrust- 
ful, murmuring throng, who regardest Hope as a flattering 
deceiver, calculated only to mislead the sanguine or blind 
in their perception of approaching realities? Although 
thou canst with propriety testify of indiscreet undertakings 
and grievous disappointments having resulted from what 
thou seemest to consider Hope's false pretenses, couldst 
thou recall every circumstance of the past and ponder its 
entire proceedings, thou wouldst discover thy judgment 
had on many occasions been misled more by thy own 
unsubdued anxieties than by any flattering promises of 
Hope. Therefore, be cautious ere thou disregardest the 
efficacy of a virtue so essential to thy comfort as Hope is 
during thy earthly pilgrimage. 

In passing through life we witness numberless instances 
in which persons deceive themselves, mistaking their own 
preferred desires for hopeful prospects; while others, 
whose interests are less absorbed in the matter, can clearly 
perceive there is no reasonable ground in such cases for 
expecting success. Thus disappointments frequently arise 
from indulging imaginations too sanguine to be realized. 

Thy short-sighted nature may often be sadly disap- 
pointed in this manner until repeated disappointments 
have made thee sensible of thy own weakness, when thou 



HOPE. 97 

canst acknowledge the wisdom that spared thee from a 
foresight of impending trials, knowing the weight of their 
realities was quite enough for human strength without 
being prematurely afflicted with them in anticipation. 
Alarm, discouragement, or repining would be the certain 
result of such forebodings- Consequently, ignorance of 
future ills awaiting us renders life's path much smoother 
to shrinking nature than it would otherwise be. Decep- 
tive as thou mayest consider Hope's seeming flatteries to 
be, her plans are wisely adapted to thy weakness, lending 
light, by her encouraging rays, to many dark spots in thy 
pathway, and preventing thee from falling a victim to un- 
timely despair. As the light and warmth of the sun in- 
vigorate vegetation, so the cheering influence of Hope 
enables man to perform the various duties allotted to his 
attention in life. 

Hope excites the aspiring student to persevere amidst 
discouragements in important discoveries and inventions. 
Hope stimulates the wearied laborer to toil cheerfully for 
the reward of plenty. Hope prompts the bereft, sorrow- 
stricken mourner to seek Divine aid and support. Hope 
points the vision of the afflicted sufferer towards prospect- 
ive reliefer recovery. Hope inclines the penitent sinner 
to trust in promises of forgiveness and redemption. Hope 
cheers the dying Christian with whispers of light and peace 
awaiting him beyond the tomb. In short, Hope may be 
justly styled an anchor of the soul, capable of affording 
strength and consolation to the latest rational period of 
life. 

How oft in trial's fearful hour. 

When cherished joys are from us torn, 

When clouds of dark affliction lower 
And disappointed spirits mourn, 
E 9 



98 WHEREON MAY WE RELY? 

We cannot see one cheering ray 
From Hope's exalted altar thrown, 

Nor e'en believe her friendly sway, 
H^r magic power we scorn to own. 

Deceptive as thou art, vain Hope, 

Thy name is ever dear to me ; 
Thy power enables man to grope 

His way across Time's changeful sea,- 
Thy beams illume affliction's night, 

Thy smiles cheer weary pilgrims on. 
Thy whispers breathe of peace and light 

In store when trial's work is done. 

Thou art a friend, a helpful friend. 

The offspring of the Christian's faith. 
Sustaining weak ones to the end, 

Removing all the sting of death. 
Thou art a star whose radiance clear 

Can penetrate the deepest gloom, — 
A star dispersing every fear 

That shades our passage to the tomb. 



WHEREON MAY WE RELY? 

Tell me, thou man of years, if thou hast found 
In all thy search a state secure from woe, 

A place where lasting joy or ease abound. 
Where words of wrath or censure never flow. 



WHEREON MA V WE REL Y? 

Tell me if thou hast seen one glad, bright eye 
That ne'er was dimmed by disappointment's tear; 

If thou hast known a mind of talents high 

That ne'er was forced to part with treasures dear. 

I ask thee, too, whereon we may rely 

For strength to bear in trial's gloomy hour, 

When clouds of dark misfortune hover nigh, 

When weakness, wrong, or pain, exert their power. 

Methinks the sage-like man with feeble tread 
Calmly replies in accents such as these : 

*' I have through many tedious years been led, 
Yet found no place of lasting joy or ease. 

" No mind exempt from smitten ties or pain, 
No state secure from passion's angry blow, 

No eye that hath not wept o'er griefs that stain 
The beauty of life's pathway here below. 

*' But, youthful friend, I must confess I've found 
An anchor strong and steadfast to the soul, 

Whereon I can rely when ills abound. 

Or sorrow's frightful billows roughly roll. 

'* Though earth affords no safe abiding-place 
Where weary spirits may be free from fear, 

Jesus, the pilgrim's Friend, can by His grace 

Grant us faith, patience, hope, while toiling here : 

*' Faith to believe He sees our every woe, 
Faith to believe He doeth all things right, 

Faith to believe He'll guide us safely through, 
Patience and hope to make our burdens light. 



99 



loo BEAUTIFUL. 

**His grace is offered to all human hearts, 
Shows fainting mortals where to look for aid; 

The soothing power His gift of faith imparts 
Lends help to bear the trials on us laid. 

** On Him alone we may rely through all 
The changeful storms that may obscure life's road ; 

To Him alone we may in weakness call 

For strength to bow unto His chastening rod. 

*' By Him alone the humble strive to grope 
Their way unto the spirit's promised land ; 

Through Him alone can erring beings hope 
Before the Father's throne faultless to stand.'* 



BEAUTIFUL. 

'Tis sweet in years of sunny youth, 

Undimmed by disappointment's blight. 

To have inward teachings of truth 
Clearly revealed to mental sight. 

'Tis sweet to see the young and strong 

Prefer the right and shun the wrong. 

Showing a conscientious fear 

Of Him to whom all things appear. 
Surely it is beautiful 

To see the Lord thus honored here. 

'Tis sweet in trial's gloomy hour. 
When ill on ill falls to our share. 

When sharp affliction's weakening power 
Seems almost more than we can bear, 



BEAUTIFUL. loi 

To feel we have an earthly friend 
On whom for aid we can depend, — 
A friend who strives our minds to stay 
And smooth by sympathy our way, 

Making life's walk beautiful 
Though clouds obscure at times our day. 

But sweeter far when grief prevails, 
And nature sinks beneath its weight, 

To feel God's mercy never fails 
To be sufficient for our state ; 

To feel through faith He'll condescend 

To own our trials to the end ; 

He'll grant us strength to trust His word 

Or say, Thy will be done, dear Lord. 
Soul, is this not beautiful, 

And worthy thy care to record? 

No sweeter feeling can we ask 

Than resignation to our fate, 
Strength to perform each meted task. 

Support beneath oppression's weight. 
The value of a patient mind. 
By faith sustained, by grace refined, 
Surpasses brightest jewels known 
To deck a monarch's brow or throne, 

And is deemed more beautiful 
By Him who heeds the spirit's moan. 



102 LINES ON THE DEATH OF S. L. MOORE. 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF S. L. MOORE. 

Little, dearest, prattling creature, 

Why thus early haste away ? 
Why thus early pay to nature 

That great debt which all must pay? 

Didst thou find this world unworthy. 

Unworthy of thy longer stay? 
Or did thy Maker, judging for thee, 

Bid thee to the realms of day ? 

Yes, dear child, 'twas He removed thee 

From this changeful state below, 
Ere thy young mind knew the trials 

Of bereavement, pain, or woe. 

Ere thy fair brow had been clouded 

By the burdening cares of time ; 
Ere thy little feet had trodden 

Rugged paths of toil or crime. 

Ere thy parents' hearts were saddened 

By transgression in their boy. 
He called thee to scenes immortal. 

Scenes of perfect life and joy. 



LINES ON THE DEATH OF S. L. MOORE. lo^ 

His watchful eye foresaw dangers 

Gathering round thy future years, 
Marked thy inward course of nature, 

Bore thee from a world of tears. 

Happy spirit, early rescued 

From the luring snares of life, 
Hover near thy mourning parents. 

Cheer them through this vale of strife. 

Show thy father how unstable 

Are the ways of erring men ; 
How, without the scourge of sorrow, 

We would choose the path of sin. 

How the Lord of mercy sendeth 

Smitten joys in kind disguise. 
To turn us from wonted error. 

Turn our longings toward the skies. 

He sees wayward footsteps straying 

From the strait and narrow road. 
Sends His rod of sharp correction 

Lest we fail to reach our God. 

May His wise designs preserve us 
From the power of Satan's snare. 

Teach our troubled souls to love Him, 
Fit us for a life of prayer ! 

That when death his work has finished, 

And our earthly race is o'er. 
We may live with Him in glory, 

Praise His name for evermore. 



104 



LET ME SEE HIM ONCE MORE. 



LET ME SEE HIM ONCE MORE. 

" Let me see him once more," a fond father said, 

As he anxiously turned to the place 
Where the pride of his home unconsciously lay 

In the stillness of death's cold embrace. 

^'Let me see him once more," that fond father sighed. 

When the coffin was ready to close 
O'er the brow of the boy, who oft by his side 

Had in frolic much lightened life's woes. 

None denied the request, but, ah ! that last gaze 

On the features of his cherub-child 
Could not restore warmth to the cold, pallid face, 

Which so lately with beauty had smiled. 

His sleep was too deep for a grieved father's moan 
To e'er rouse him to consciousness here; 

His person remained, but his spirit had flown 
Where no mortal sound could reach his ear. 

Though the coffin and grave now hide the fair form 
Of that loved boy from his father's sight, 

He forever is safe from sorrow or harm. 
In a world of endless joy and light. 

With angels and saints he in Paradise stands, 

God's presence through ages to adore; 
And beckons his kindred to that happy land 

Where his father may see him once more. 



THOUGHTS AFTER A RELIGIOUS MEETING. 

Once more, when affliction, misfortune, and strife 

Shall no longer the spirit annoy, 
His father may see him an heir of new life, 

And be parted no more from his boy. 



105 



THOUGHTS AFTER ATTENDING A 
RELIGIOUS MEETING. 

Unto the house of prayer I've been once more, 

And heard glad tidings spoken, as of yore ; 

I heard : — that God is with me, and will be 

A strength in weakness, all things unto me. 

'Tis He alone can still life's raging wave, 

And from its wrath the mind's frail bark can save ; 

'Tis only He, when clouds of sorrow lower. 

Can say Be still, omnipotent in power. 

Have I not proved it so in days gone by. 

When trial's thickest veil obscured my sky. 

When my poor tossed and deeply-harassed mind 

No place of rest, no safe retreat could find. 

Except in Him, who with unerring might 

Changed at His will grief's darkness into light. 

And I went forth rejoicing? E'en so now 

Be faith's bright impress seen upon my brow; 

And may that peace that passeth all below. 

Which can alone from Heaven's pure fountains flow. 

So cheer my heart, so animate my breast. 

That I on Him in confidence may rest ! 

And if I strive until my work is o'er, 

Then with what joy I'll view yon future shore, 

AVhile praises, heartfelt praises, shall be given 

To Him who rules on earth and reigns in heaven. 

E* 



lo6 BE GENTLEMEN AT HOME. 



BE GENTLEMEN AT HOME. 

Who is a gentleman? What principles or practices 
constitute the character of a man deserving this term? 
Surely it requires something of greater depth than mere 
complimentary phrases or foppish grimaces to form true 
dignity, which every sensible person will admit is the 
only solid basis of true gentlemanship ; intelligence, jus- 
tice, condescension, respectful attention, decency, benev- 
olence, and forbearance must actuate the habits of him 
who desires to be considered a gentleman in a public 
sphere. If an observance of these principles is so admi- 
rably calculated to place a man in a favorable position in 
general society, how much more winning would an obser- 
vance of the same principles be, if exercised at home to- 
wards those he is bound by ties of nature, duty, and law, 
to cherish ! Men, or gentlemen, if such you fancy your- 
selves to be, many of you doubtless are insensible of 
the injuries you impose upon your own families. When 
in the company of strangers it appears an easy task to 
make yourselves kind and courteous ; you then can pleas- 
antly encourage conversation, cheerfully sacrifice your 
own inclinations or intentions to the inclinations of 
others, officiously proffer obliging services, refrain from 
profane language or slovenly habits, contribute liberally 
to charitable subscriptions, and silently bear with expres- 
sions of directly opposite character to your own senti- 
ments : but, alas ! how differently many of you behave 
when at home towards those you would have the world 
believe you love! At home you (regardless of the happi- 



BE GENTLEMEN AT HOME. 



107 



ness or convenience of her whose confidence you won by 
assumed acts of apparent gentlemanship, regardless of the 
solemn covenant you made before God and man at the 
marriage altar) frequently reject with impatience kindly 
intended offers of conversation, censure with unbounded 
rage inclinations which encroach upon your own contem- 
plations, harshly refuse entreated accommodations, in- 
dulge in profane language or slovenly habits, miser-like 
restrict necessary expenditures, and irritably oppose senti- 
ments not congenial with your own, until you render 
yourselves objects of mingled scorn and terror to wives, 
children, and servants. Compare these actions (which, 
none can deny, prevail too generally in private life) with 
principles of justice, condescension, respectful attention, 
decency, benevolence, or forbearance, and consider how 
far such conduct corresponds with the required habits of 
gentlemen. Be gentlemen at home if you would have 
your homes be attractive to yourselves or families ; then 
wives and children could feel encouraged to partici- 
pate in your joys and sorrows, welcome your approach, re- 
joice in your presence, study your comfort, and pity your 
difficulties, whereby home would be made to appear to all 
parties the most desirable spot on earth. Do not suppose 
politely offering an arm of formal attention, or pleasantly 
addressing your wives with Mrs. W. in public assem- 
blages, doth in any degree atone for neglect and disre- 
gard at home, but remember kindness or unkindness na- 
turally produces a return of the same, therefore you 
must conduct yourselves in a respectful manner if you 
desire to be respected. 



Io8 THE SLUGGARD. 



THE SLUGGARD. 

How drear a sluggard's life must pass, 
Unmoved by any bustling scene! 

No pleasant toil, no earnest chase, 
Gives change unto his dull routine. 

He sighs, and rolls upon his bed. 

Or dozes in his easy-chair ; 
He folds his hands and rubs his head. 

And sauntering stands, without a care. 

His dingy garb, his tardy pace. 

His slovenly, neglected cot. 
All tell a tale to his disgrace, — 

A tale the sluggard heedeth not. 

His cot, his purse, his mind, his all. 

Are not sufficient to excite 
Him to ambition's stirring call, 

Or science's instructive light. 

Oh, wretched man ! didst thou but know 
The pleasures of employment's power, 

The cheerfulness which from it flows. 
Thou wouldst not idly waste an hour. 

Yet I will not thy weakness scorn. 
But look with pity on thy ways. 

Thinking thou wast of parents born 
Who guarded not thy early days. 



PERSEVERE. 109 

Had gross neglect in growing youth 

Attended me the same as thou, 
I, too, might be a helpless drone, 

Too indolent for service now. 

But, thanks to those who kindly bent 

My habits toward some useful care, 
Who taught me noble powers were lent 

To be improved by steady wear, 

I would not change my present lot. 

Nor lose the comfort I derive 
From toiling in my humble cot, 

For all the ease that sluggards have. 



PERSEVERE. 

Be not dismayed, tried one, at crosses here. 

Though doomed to part with joys thy heart held dear; 

Though dark misfortunes frown upon thy fate. 

And strength depart beneath affliction's weight, 

Yield not to fruitless grief nor hopeless fear. 

But look above and nobly persevere. 

Perchance want, labor, care, may sometimes be 
The portion wisely meted out to thee ; 
Wrath, slander, or revenge may pile their load 
Of grief and gloom nigh unto thy abode ; 
Watch then the danger of each rising tear. 
And bear in mind the language, persevere. 

Thy task of mental labor may appear 
Greater than is required of some to bear ; 



no WATCH AND PRAY. 

Halt not, though bid to march upon a road 
No human footstep hath before thee trod ; 
He who is pleased to call thee will be near, 
Show thee when, where, and how to persevere. 

In every change that doth attend thy life, 

Whether produced by pleasure or by strife, — 

In every place thy future lot be cast. 

By will, calling, or accident, thou hast 

One means within thy power thy mind to cheer, 

'Tis simply willingness to persevere. 

Strive on ; though prospects wear a sable shroud, 
Blue sky and sunshine lie beyond the cloud. 
None know the work they can perform until 
They have applied their utmost power and skill ; 
No great attainments mortals covet here 
Can be secured unless we persevere. 



WATCH AND PRAY LEST YE ENTER 
INTO TEMPTATION." 

Weak man, thy daily actions show 

How great thy need to watch and pray, 

Lest unaware the tempter draw 
Thy footsteps far from duty's way. 

Sickness and sorrow, wrong and care. 

Have often been thy spirit's load, 
A weight required of man to bear 

Wliile marching on life's rugged road. 



WATCH AND FRAY. 

Say, dost thou patiently endure 
The trials that o'ertake thee here? 

Or doth affliction's cloud obscure 
Thy spirit with repining fear ? 

Doth malice or resentment seek 

To fill thy heart with wrath and strife 

At injuries a foe hath sent, 

With full intent to wound thy life? 

Doth pride or avarice prevail 
To lure from paths of rectitude, 

In hours when weakness doth assail 
Thy best resolves to practice good ? 

If thus thy tender mind is tried, 
The caution is to watch and pray, 

Avoid deceptive mists that hide 
Temptations lurking in thy way. 

Avarice, pride, revenge, and doubt 
Are snares and dangers in disguise, 

Proceeding from the baneful fount 
Which Satan's artful power supplies. 

Gird up thy mind, and nobly strive 
To bear the crosses of thy day ; 

Patience and meekness, faith and hope, 
Are found by those who watch and pray. 



212 GOD IS EVERYWHERE. 



GOD IS EVERYWHERE. 

It matters not where'er thy lot be cast, 
In humble cell or princely grandeur rare, 

Whether thy earthly pilgrimage be passed 
In sunny joys or sorrow's blighting air, 

Thou hast assurance God is everywhere. 

With might and will to reign supremely there. 

Then ne'er presume to hide thyself from Him, 
How'er retired thy temporal abode ; 

How'er secure thy lurking-place may seem 
To be concealed from others, on life's road 

Naught can conceal thee from the sight of God, 

Nor shield thee from the chasten ings of His rod. 

His searching eye can pierce the deepest gloom, 
Scan the most hidden sins or woes thou hast. 

Discern thy want of might to overcome 
Dangers produced by error's cruel blast ; 

Be not dismayed, although thy lot be cast 

Remote from friends, or in a boundless waste. 

'Tis joy to know in every place and hour, 
In every state, in all thou hast to bear. 
Thou art surrounded by His arm of power, 
* Art guarded by His ever-watchful care; 
And, dearest of all blessings mortals share. 
Allowed to cry to Him in secret prayer. 

lO* 



WASTE NOT MOMENTS. II3 

'Tis joy to know He shows thee right from wrong, 
That of His works man is to Him most dear ; 

'Tis joy to know the spirit's grateful song 

And sorrow's burdening sigh doth reach His ear, 

And, through the pleadings of the Saviour there, 

Find full acceptance with God everywhere. 



WASTE NOT MOMENTS. 

Waste not moments, they are precious, 
None can boast another hour ; 

Riches, vigor, youth, nor beauty 
Can withstand the spoiler's power. 

Waste not moments, though they seem 
Like mere morsels in the span 

Of years commonly allotted 
To the portion of a man. 

Waste not moments, but remember 

They are given to improve ; 
They're the time wherein to labor 

And prepare for life above. 

Waste not moments, idly thinking 

To perform in time to come 
Tasks belonging to the present; 

To us the future may be gloom. 

Waste not moments, those now vanished 

Will return to us no more. 
Nor afford another season 

To exert neglected power. 



114 OUR TWO LITTLE BOYS. 

Waste not moments, many warnings 
Are presented to our view ; 

Comrades oft are quickly summoned 
From this mortal state below. 

Waste not moments, each one bears us 
Nearer to the narrow tomb, 

Nearer to eternal portals, 

None know when their turn will come. 

Waste not moments, that if shortly 
We be called to give account 

Of the deeds done in the body, 

*' We'll not fear to upward mount." 



OUR TWO LITTLE BOYS. 

Our two little boys are a frolicsome pair ; 
From earliest dawn until evening's cool air 
Their clear, ringing voices are constantly heard, 
As they merrily prance o'er the grass-covered yard, 
With soft azure eyes, brightly beaming with joy, 
And meddlesome fingers, our plans to destroy. 
In mischief or danger their sports mostly end. 
When mother her rod of correction doth lend ; 
The sorrow and sobbing her chastening imparts 
Soon sink into peace in their innocent hearts. 
No feelings of malice in them ever burn. 
But away to their play they quickly return. 
Forgetful of aught that disturbed their delight, 
Their little feet patter from morning till night. "" 



OUR TWO LITTLE BOYS. 115 

Their numberless wishes, their questions, their noise, 

Displease us at times with our two little boys ; 

Yet their innocent prattle and ignorant views 

In moments of leisure our feelings amuse ; 

We prize them more highly than language can tell. 

And strive to direct their young wanderings well. 

Thrice happy are ye, little ones, when compared 

With your parents, whose years life's trials have spared; 

The cares of the morrow disturb not your rest, 

Ambition or pride have no place in your breast. 

Ye heed not, ye fear not, the future's dark frown, 

The present suffices your wishes to crown. 

Roam on, little boys, and with gladness pursue 

The pleasures belonging to children like you; 

Roam on unconcerned, until time, strength, thought, each, 

Shall your feelings enlarge by the lessons they teach : 

Maturity's weight of misfortunes and woes 

Will fall, ah ! too soon on your delicate brows,— 

Too soon will the lines of oppression and care 

Be marked on your features, now blooming and fair. 

Roam on while you can, but may lessons of truth 

Impress you while passing the season of youth ! 

May your manhood, if such be granted to you. 

Be adorned by keeping improvement in view ! 

May you richly repay with kindness and care 

The burden your parents for you have to bear, 

In watching the wants of your infantile years, 

And guarding your habits when error appears ! 

May wisdom and virtue be early your choice. 

That your care-worn parents in age may rejoice, 

Beholding the prospect of heavenly joys 

Awaiting the souls of our two little boys ! 



J 1 6 ON MY FOR TY-SE VENTH BIR THDA Y. 



REFLECTIONS ON MY FORTY-SEVENTH 
BIRTH-DAY. 

How rapidly time passes ! how unmindful we are of its 
flight, or of the necessity of being prepared to meet its 
close ! While youth, beauty, or vigor remain, we are apt 
to forget age, weakness, death, and judgment are daily 
approaching nearer to us. Months and years glide away 
almost imperceptibly, until on reflecting we discover the 
clock of life hath already run more than half its round, 
even should the extraordinary number of fourscore and 
four years be allotted to us. So shortsighted is human 
nature, so contented with sailing on health's smooth sur- 
face, so prone to grasp at every tempting enjoyment pre- 
sented within reach, that many thoughtless beings have 
unconsciously reached the summit of life's hill, and are 
day by day descending its declining slope, without ap- 
pearing to perceive their downward journey is liable to 
be much shorter and more difficult than their ascent was. 
The farther we advance on life's road, the more rugged it 
appears, we feel that cherished joys have departed, ties 
of kindred have been sundered, health and strength are 
diminished, debility and dependency are fast overtaking 
us, and treasured recollections of ambition, pride, or 
avarice prove unstable anchors in the sea of infirmities. 
Meekness, patience, faith, hope, charity, and forgiveness, 
are necessary attainments to preserve us from falling into 
dangers which naturally prevail in seasons of misfortune, 
affliction, or despondency, unless the mind is firmly estab- 
lished upon the rock of conscientious piety, which is the 



ON MY FOR T V- SE VENTH BIR THDA V. nj 

only rock sufficiently strong to stand unmoved amidst 
tempests of multiplied trials. Another year of the time 
allotted to my portion has flown away, and a review 
thereof clearly presents omissions and commissions which 
much tarnish the beauty of its picture. Methinks many 
fellow-pilgrims might acknowledge the same unfaithfulness 
on their part, would they carefully ponder their actions 
during that period of time. Should this suspicion be cor- 
rect, I can only recommend repentance of the past, and an 
earnest endeavor to improve the future, by devoting the 
remainder of our days more fully to the Lord's service in 
whatever manner He may be pleased to require. His grace, 
which appeareth unto every rational mind, convinceth us 
beyond a doubt what His requirings are ; consequently 
unfaithfulness to follow its pointings in all things is the 
great secret of much of the misery existing among man- 
kind in general. God, according to His wisdom in crea- 
ting us, endowed different individuals with different capa- 
cities, to be exercised in different spheres. It matters not 
in what sphere we are spiritually called to labor, it mat- 
ters not how trifling or peculiar the labor within that 
sphere may appear, the call is incumbent upon us to obey; 
and the more willingly we submit thereto, the more easily 
our task is performed. Many, far too many, regard the 
requirings of conscience in small things as mere trifles, 
unworthy of attention; but to me they appear compara- 
ble to small duties in outward business, which every skill- 
ful manager will admit must be carefully attended to, or 
matters of apparently greater importance suffer thereby. 
Inattention to small mental duties is no less serious in its 
results. The origin of slander, malice, resentment, and 
divers gross evils commonly occurring in everyday life, 
may generally be traced to small offences or neglect to 
amend offences while they are small, and within our 



1 1 8 ON MY FOR TY-SE VENTH BIR THDA Y. 

power to control. A grain of wheat or a cent of money 
is considered by all a trifling thing; yet none can deny 
it is by carefully regarding grains and cents, that we in 
time accumulate valuable sums of bushels and dollars ; so 
in like manner, a faithful adherence to spiritual requirings 
in small things constitutes the grand basis of practical 
Christianity. 

We are growing old ! do we feel how fast 

The clock of life is running round ? 
Do we number the moments as they pass, 

That we in readiness be found 
To meet the Bridegroom's call, which may 
Be sounded suddenly to-day ? 

We are growing old ! doth mem'ry bear 

The dangers of the blinding dust 
Arising from ambition's luring snare, 

Wherein weak souls should never trust, 
Lest unaware we be betrayed 
And salvation's work long delayed? 

We are growing old ! may each one prepare 

To stand before the Judge on high. 
While He our actions, registered with care, 

Reviews with His all-searching eye, 
And hear His just sentence given 
At the judgment-seat of Heaven. 



EVENING REFLECTIONS. 119 



EVENING REFLECTIONS. 

How pleasant it is, when the shadows of night 

Steal silently o'er the vale, 
To think on the day as it fades from our sight, 

And feel satisfaction prevail. 

When our task is performed with timely success, 
And conscience shows naught to prevent, 

Our spirits rejoice in the freedom and peace 
Which follow devotions well spent. 

But, instead of all this, when strife or neglect 

Leave traces of error behind. 
Discontent and remorse deprive us of rest 

And painfully harass the mind. 

Why do we so often in folly indulge, 

Or lightly the present employ. 
Since hard- bought experience teaches the plan 

Whereby we may win or lose joy? 



I20 TO AD DIE, ON HER MARRIAGE. 



TO ADDIE, ON HER MARRIAGE. 

I LITTLE thought, my darling one, 

When thou didst quit my side, 
That ere two years should roll around. 

My girl would be a bride. 
I little thought thy calm, dark eye 
So soon would tempt a heart to try 
Affection's power to make secure 
That tie which must for life endure. 

I little thought thy name, which bore 

Resemblance to my own. 
Would be exchanged for aught, before 

I heard again thy tone. 
I thought, I hoped, the time would come 
Thou couldst return unto thy home : 
That hope has fled, thou art bound now ; 
So strive to keep thy marriage vow. 

That vow was breathed before thy God; 

He saw thee made a wife, 
To honor, cherish, until death. 

The partner of thy life ; 
His lot thou now art bound to share. 
Whether of pleasure or of care; 
Then, dearest, let it be thy pride 
To be to him a proper guide. 

Thy heart is fond and tender now. 
Bright seem youth's golden hours; 



TO AD DIE, ON HER MARRIAGE. 121 

But time and care thy form will bow, 

And wither beauty's flowers ; 
Mayest thou in age prove constant still 
Thy marriage promise to fulfil ; 
Though crosses shade thy placid brow, 
Be faithful, loving, then, as now. 

And may thy partner prove to be 

A kind deserving friend ; 
Ready, when trials fall on thee, 

His sympathy to lend j 
That as you each advance in years 
One may share in the other's tears ; 
Binding more firm, through sun and shade, 
Kindred attachments early made. 

Thus thy marriage on earth may be 

An emblem of the joy 
Thy union with sainted ones 

Shall yield without alloy; 
When thy short pilgrimage is past, 
And thee the Saviour owns at last, 
To be His spouse through endless days. 
And sing around the throne His praise. 



II 



122 ON RAISING THE NATIONAL FLAG. 



The two following poems were addressed to a few pri- 
vate individuals who raised the national flag on their own 
premises during the late rebellion. 

Yes, for the flag of stars and stripes 

Our fathers bled and died ; 
And scourged every man should be 

Who puts that flag aside. 

Our fathers braved both heat and cold, 

They labored night and day, 
To quell the foe who strove to hold 

Our men beneath their sway ? 

Our fathers' blood our freedom bought ; 

And who would dare destroy 
The flag which waved above their heads, 

And never knew alloy ? 

Secession's bane, palmetto bush, 

With serpent coiled around. 
Can have no place upon the soil 

Of Union's happy ground. 

Then let the flag of stars and stripes 

Long o'er our country wave ; 
And every heart defend the rights 

Our fathers fought to save- 



ON RAISING THE NATIONAL FLAG. 123 

Let every son unite and join 

Our heroes brave and true, 
In helping them their rights defend 

And save our banners too. 

From East and West, from North and South, 

We hear some brothers call ; 
And echo back from every heart 

This Union must not fall. 



The stars and the stripes of our banner 
Our country's proud liberty tell; 

Which was bought with the toil of our fathers 
And blood of our heroes who fell. 

Let youth learn our nation's sad story, 

Our patriots' valor and zeal ; 
When with hearts full of Union glory 

They strove their opponents to quell ; 

When mothers and daughters united 

Invented a wise saving plan 
Of yielding their country assistance. 

Encouraging every brave man. 

Thus the work of this new-hoisted banner 
Our ladies' warm wishes portray ; 

May it stir up the minds of their sisters 
To join in the cause of the day. 



124 OH, DOES HE EVER THINK OF ME? 

To arrest the bane tide of secession, 

Society's ruin and shame ; 
And hold with unflinching possession 

Our long-loved banner of fame, 

Which waved o'er the heads of our fathers 
While striving their freedom to gain, 

That they might establish a Union, — 
A Union their sons should sustain. 

Then up with the star-spangled banner. 
Our badge which all nations do own. 

And defend with all firmness the virtue 
That governs our Union throne. 



OH, DOES HE EVER THINK OF ME? 

Oh, does he ever think of me 

Who watched beside his cradle bed. 
And on my slender arm and knee 

Nursed carefully his infant head? 
He can't deny I was the one 

He oft preferred in riper hours. 
To linger near with cheerful tone 

When sickness had reduced his powers. 

Does he, the youngest of our group. 
To whom my heart so closely clung 

Without a shadow of distrust. 

In days when he and I were young, 



OH, DOES HE EVER THINK OF ME? 125 

E'er cast an anxious wish or sigh 
Toward me, now in declining years, 

Who once exerted every power 
To be his friend in joy and tears? 

Has he forgotten all my toil, 

While the first dear one of his choice 
Long languished on a bed of pain ^ 

Ere she was called by death's stern voice? 
He surely knows, would he recall, 

The many efforts which I made 
To smooth the roughness of his path 

When she he loved had from him fled. 

Oh, can it be ! must I believe 

He wholly disregards me now? 
That I'll no more with joy perceive 

Kind approbation on his brow ? 
Must I throughout remaining years 

The object of his censure be. 
Because events of mottled spheres 

Were oft accepted wrongfully ? 

And shall it be, no favored breeze 

Will ever o'er our spirits shed 
Its softening influence of peace. 

To clear the mist by error spread? 
If so, or even ruder blasts 

Assail my future destiny, 
Afl"ection still will fondly ask, 

'' Oh. does he ever think of me?" 



II 



126 BLESSINGS. 



BLESSINGS. 

When musing in a silent season 

On blessings which had my portion crowned, 
I strove to think which one I'd reason 

To feel most thankful for having found. 

The task was great to aim at solving 
The best or least of the gifts of God ; 

All seemed important, whether offered 
In pleasing shape or in chastening mode. 

The name and form of blessings differ. 
Yet each is needful while we toil here ; 

Each adds a link to our chain of comfort, 
Lights paths that would otherwise be drear. 

Although our nature requires raiment. 

Food, and rest to cherish mortal strength. 

Did pleasures fill our cup with favors 
We'd fail to win endless joys at length. 

Therefore blessings consist not merely 
In stores of plenty, delight, or ease ; 

Sickness, bereavement, care, and sorrow, 
All kindly serve to lead us to peace. 

Thus faith would own at times the mercy 
Of Thy interposing hand, dear Lord ; 

But feeble nature is rebellious. 

And feels Thy all-wise corrections hard. 



BLESSINGS. 127 

The flinty soil, within the narrow 

Path which Thou requirest us to tread, 

To human feelings is annoying 

Until Thy grace shows us what we need. 

Yet, weak and erring as my spirit 

By nature seems inclined to be, 
The softening intents of Thy dealings 

I trust are not wholly lost on me. 

Thou sawest meet mine eyes to darken, 
To make drear the sphere wherein I move. 

To wither life's endearing prospect 

Of kindred, companionship, and love ; 

Thou sawest meet to send these trials. 
As needed blessings in kind disguise ; 

To guard me from the snares of Satan 
Woven unseen in earth's luring ties. 

I thank Thee, Father, for regarding 

Me worthy of Thy preserving care ; 
Worthy of being taught the hidden 

Mysteries Thy chosen children share. 

But dearest far of all the blessings 

Thou hast been pleased to confer on me, 

Is strength of mind to bear in calmness 

Each chastening stroke which descends from Thee. 

For this I thank Thee, Holy Parent, 

Above all other blessings given ; 
It reconciles me to affliction 

While toiling to win rest in heaven. 



J 23 A DIALOGUE. 



A DIALOGUE. 

FATHER. 

My son, I can't imagine where 
You have so early learned to swear; 
I cannot think whoe'er you heard 
Express a vulgar, profane word ; 
Your precious mother doth, I know. 
Guard well her lips, lest aught should flow 
That would her dignity disgrace 
Or rob her conscience of its peace. 
You always have been kept at home, 
Not e'en to school allowed to roam. 
You have no playmates known to use 
Such oaths as you so often choose ; 
I'm grieved to think my darling boy, 
Scarce six years old, should thus employ 
His little tongue in naughty ways. 
Not minding what his father says ; 
I love you dearly, but must do 
My duty by correcting you ; 
So, mind, I'll punish you severe 
The next time I know you to swear. 

CHILD. 

Father, I do remember well 
You told me not to lie and steal, 
Nor ever drink a drop of rum 
Or I a drunkard might become ; 



A DIALOGUE. 

But let me tell you, father dear, 
You never told me not to swear ; 
And even now I do not know 
Why you should scold your darling so. 
Since all the naughty words I say 
You speak before me every day. 
You know you often storm and swear, 
And tell mamma you do not care ; 
When she attempts to kindly warn, 
Her cautions you receive with scorn. 
You told me, too, the Good Man sees 
Your little boy, hide where I please. 
That every act and every word 
I speak is by the Good Man heard ; 
That He will punish naughty boys 
And shut them out from all His joys. 
But, father, does it not seem queer. 
When the Good Man is always near 
To see what little children do. 
That He don't see big men like you. 
Or punish big men when they swear 
And act as if He was not near? 

FATHER. 

My son, you almost make me blush. 
Your pleadings to my conscience rush, 
Arousing feelings in my heart 
I would should ne'er from me depart. 
I know, dear boy, on taking thought, 
I need the lesson you have taught. 
I know I often storm and swear. 
Regardless of God's being near. 
Although I'm tall. He doth survey 
All that I do and all I say ; 



129 



130 A DIALOGUE. 

His judgment-book contains within 
A strict account of each one's sin. 
I feel assured 'tis written there 
The number of the oaths I swear. 
Methinks I feel persuaded, too, 
I am accountable for you ; 
But do not see what course to take 
More safe or prudent than to make 
New covenant with God, to try 
To set example to my boy, 
That will incline his youthful heart 
Wisely to choose the better part. 
Which doth preserve from every snare 
Tempting man's evil tongue to swear. 

CHILD. 

Father, I've one thing more to say: 
Mamma has told me I must pray ; 
Must ask the Good Man to forgive 
My naughty tricks, and make me live 
The way He likes good folks to do, 
That I may learn to be good too. 
But, father, since the Good Man knows 
All big men do, as well as boys, 
Should you not try to learn to pray, 
That you no more bad words will say ? 

FATHER. 

My child, I know we all do need 
The help of God, His will to heed ; 
I know we all have need to pray 
For strength to shun the sinner's way. 
We are by nature prone to wrong. 
This weakness doth to each belong ; 



THE OLD YEAR. ^i^ 

And naught but grace, through faith, can make 

Us strong and wiUing to forsake 

Our evil ways, or rightly bear 

Our cross against the tempter's snare. 

May you and I strive to obey 

What our kind friends shall to us say, 

Nor think at heart we do not care 

When we are shown some cross to bear ! 



THE OLD YEAR. 



Farewell, old year, thy remaining moments are num- 
bered, thy las, sun has set : a few more Aeetmg hours, a 
tliou wilt be hurled from existence forever. Tlry depart 
u e is accompanied by a stormy ^'"-f--'."^%S ;° ^ 
of which is talculated to recall the mottled tram of ffl - 
^ons, sorrows, toils, and cares which pressed w,th - 
creased weight upon many a toil-worn spmt dur.ng thy 
c cumvolution. Thy expiring flight wafts not from the 
m nd painful recollections of omissions and comm,ss,o s 
lich much darken the pages of thy record. Every day 
If thy progression has been marked w.th m.por ant 
events Every day made some hearts happy, and o hers 
Id Thousands of human beings feel this year has been 
an eventful era in their experience. Many amb.Uous 
persons have joyfully realized success m attamrrients for 
wlich they formerly labored in vain. Many noble char- 
ZL have fallen from the high tower of rect.tude mo 
an appalling abyss of error and disgrace by yeld.ng to 
enrp^Ition and weakness. Many fond hearts have been 
pluied into despair by the crushing torture of wrath or 



132 



THE OLD YEAR. 



neglect. Many happy families have been driven from 
long-enjoyed prosperity to the narrow confines of want 
by unexpected gales of misfortune. Many strong, active 
forms have been enfeebled by the uncontrollable power 
of disease or accident. Many cheerful homes have been 
made desolate by the remorseless hand of death ; while 
many others have been permitted to escape serious 
interruptions upon that portion of their voyage through 
life, and bask a little longer in the pleasant sunshine of 
ease, health, and prosperity. Old year, thou hast com- 
pleted a variety of changes which were commenced by 
thy predecessor, and art leaving as great a variety of thy 
own begetting to be completed by thy successor. Thou 
hast brought every individual, who survived the motions 
of thy revolve, one year's march nearer the portals of 
judgment and eternity; none have been able to turn 
their sail up the course of thy current, nor withstand the 
perpetually downward bearing of thy rapidly vanishing 
moments; but on numerous heads where beautiful, sable, 
or golden locks were seen at the beginning of thy career, 
gray hairs now appear in abundance, showing how irre- 
sistible is the power of time. Thy closing scene seems to 
impart a solemn and instructive lesson to man, warning 
us to remember human life is, comparably to the departing 
year, a period of short continuance, which, according to 
the orderings of nature, must soon cease to exist, and give 
place to succeeding generations. 



SAD REFLECTIONS. 



-^zz 



SAD REFLECTIONS 

Ah, memory tells almost ten years 

Of mingled pleasure, care, and gloom 

Have fled since wounded nature's tears 
Were shed around our mother's tomb. 

Almost ten years since she who strove 
So earnestly to smooth my way, 

By acts of sympathy and love, 

Was called, I trust, to endless day. 

But, oh, the changes I have known 

While these ten years rolled slow away ! 

Joys have departed, sorrows grown, 

And brightest locks exchanged for gray. 

Friends and kindred have been sundered 
By dark misfortune's chilling tide, 

Pain and death have swept forever 
A faithful father from my side. 

The pleasant homestead which he strove 

By honest labor to acquire, 
Alas, no longer claims my love. 

Its beauties strangers now admire. 

More distant friends, with whom we once 
Were wont to wander hand in hand, 

Have also left us here to grope 
Our journey to tlie spirit-land. 



134 ^E y^ ALSO READY. 

Though dark the picture fancy draws 
Of cherished scenes in by-gone days, 

The picture of the next ten years, 

When drawn, may have no brighter rays. 

Our parents' pilgrimage is o'er, 

We children yet must tread the road 

Their weary footsteps trod before, 
Amid events of ill and good. 

The next sad breach death's icy touch 
Shall make within our household band 

Must be among the younger group 
Our smitten parents left behind. 

None of us know whose mental ear 
Will first receive the final call, 

The youngest or the strongest may 
Stand first before the Judge of all. 



BE YE ALSO READY. 

Be ye also ready, for in an hour 

When least expected the Son of Man 

May suddenly summon your souls before 
The great Judge's majesty to stand, 

And listen to His record, just and true. 

Of deeds done in the body here below. 

Be ye also ready, seeing how oft 

The youth from death's grasp we cannot save. 



TO KATIE. 135 

How oft strong forms, on active service bent, 

Fall unconscious victims to the grave, 
Without one moment's warning to prepare 
To meet the mighty Lord of spirits there. 

Be ye also ready, while time and sense 

Are kindly extended unto you, 
While inward teachings of redeeming grace 

Are clearly presented to your view. 
Enlightening the spirit's short-sighted eye 
To discern and 'scape dangers lurking nigh. 

Be ye also ready, that no alarm 

Shall seize your minds at that solemn hour, 
Whether the call be heard at night or morn. 

In health, or under declining power, 
But with calmness hope to receive the word, 
''Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 



TO KATIE. 



Dearest Katie, mother left thee, 

To journey far away. 
Not intending to neglect thee 

By her much lengthened stay. 

Older kindred, dear by nature, 
Friends of her early years. 

Held a place in her affection 
Through later joys and tears. 



136 TO KATIE. 

'Tvvas for them she left thee, darling, 

But only for awhile. 
To see her aged father's features 

And sister's welcome smile. 

Oft she thought, while pressing forward, 

Of those she left behind, 
And Katie's pranks of innocence 

Rushed to thy mother's mind. 

Chide her not for having tarried 
Long from her youngest one. 

Though thee missed her fond caresses 
And her familiar tone. 

She little thought thy last sickness 

Would seize thy tender frame. 
Ere she could return and proudly 
, Hear thee lisp thy mother's name. 

But, ah ! her fond hopes were blasted 
When home she did approach, — 

Her youngest one lay prostrated 
Upon a fevered couch. 

It was painful to her feelings 

To meet her darling so, 
And with every art she labored 

To check the spoiler's blow. 

'Twas vain, all her prayers and efforts 
To rescue thee from death 

Merely lightened the agonies 
Of thy expiring breath. 



TO KATIE. 137 

Was it thy wish to leave mother? 

Was thy fate hard below ? 
Hark ! to these questions, I fancy, 

Sweet Katie answers, No. 

There is One who sees the dangers 

Awaiting children here. 
And in love is pleased to bear them 

Away from pain and care. 

He it was who early called thee 

From thy dear mother's breast, 
To be safe with Him in glory 

And with thy brother rest. 

He was also called before thet 

To quit the scenes of time, 
Ere his little feet had trodden 

The paths of woe and crime. 

He was there to greet his sister 

Within that blest abode, 
And with the ransomed family 

Sing endless praise to God. 

May your guileless spirits hover 

Around your parents* way, 
And oft cause them to remember 

You're happier far than they ! 

Cause them to rejoice in knowing 

Their children are at peace, 
And the number of their kindred 

In heaven is increased. . 



138 WINTER. 



WINTER. 

Stern winter, thy rigorous frowns 

Chase beautiful sights from our view, 
Landscapes exchange their veniant crowns 

For those of perished nature's hue. 
The leafless forests groan and sigh 

Beneath the pressure of thy breath. 
The feathered songsters swiftly fly 

Before thy chilling threat of death. 

Thy frigid movements overspread 

Earth's fair aspect with blight and gloom, 
Insects and plants are harshly led 

To slumber torpid in thy tomb. 
Though grim and drear the scenes which show 

The weight of thy remorseless tread, 
My fancy pictures pleasure's glow 

Amidst the gloom thy actions shed. 

Thy showers of sleet which crystallize 

The bending bough and slender vine. 
Sparkling beneath bright starlight skies 

Like pearls within the ocean's brine, 
Give beauty to the faded scene 

Thy dreaded presence casts around. 
While groups of merry forms are found 

In frolic o'er the snow-clad ground. 

The sleigh-bells jingle at the door. 
Foretelling pleasant friends are near, 

To share with us the pleasant hour 
While restinsc from the summer's care. 



CONSOLATORY MUSINGS. 139 

In social mirth or converse sweet 
Thy long evenings are whiled away, 

Comrades aromid the fireside meet, 
Released from tumults of the day. 

The peaceful slumbers of the night 

Hushed from the ear thy winds' rough tone, 
While stormy elements without 

In hoarse, unheeded accents moan. 
Such are the joys thy season brings 

To homes where plenty lends her hand. 
Where peace her gentle mantle flings 

Upon the household's happy band. 

But widely different, the fate 

Of those where want or discord reigns : 
On them thy snow-flakes fall with weight, 

To them thy evenings are but pain. 
The morning's light, the warm sun's ray, 

Are most that cheer their luckless cells 
During the rigor of thy sway. 

Of which their grievous record tells. 



CONSOLATORY MUSINGS. 

Ah, be not anxious to pursue 

The trifles of a day ; 
The sweetest joys of earth are doomed 

To quickly pass away. 



I40 



CONSOLATORY MUSINGS 

But if we in our God confide 

And seek His constant care, 
Though trials reign on every side, 

He'll guard us from despair. 

Though eyes may shed their blinding tears 

And hearts oft raise a sigh, 
He'll kindly heed these humble prayers, 

These tears of sorrow dry. 

He'll ever prove a faithful friend 

When pain or grief prevails ; 
On Him we safely may depend, 

His mercies never fail. 

He's ever ready to fulfill 

Each promise to the soul. 
Of those who truly seek His will 

And are at His control. 

Then prostrate at the throne of grace 

Our souls in earnest prayer. 
And ask for strength to keep our place 

When Satan's arrows dare. 

We need the strength that maketh strong 

To follow His command, 
To keep resolves which cannot long 

Temptation's power withstand. 

Though peaceful thoughts at times prevail, 

(Submission's sweet reward,) 
Like things of earth, our minds are frail, 

Unsettled in the Lord. 



SECRET COMFORT. 141 



I OFT observe in hours of trial, 

When comfort threatens to depart, 

Impatience meets a firm denial 
If Jesus rules within my heart. 

His peaceful presence prompts my spirit 
To choose the path He would approve. 

He cheers my prospect of the future 
With gentle promises of love. 

Cheerful forgiveness toward the erring 
E'en while I journey here below, 

Endurance, faith, and hope He granteth. 
To light and smooth my pathway througl 

He sees me weary, heavy laden. 
Bids me on Him my burden cast, 

Renews my strength to trust His mercy, 
In hope of rest through Him at last. 

Soul, 'tis by far a greater favor 
Than all the joys that earth afford, 

To hold communion with the Saviour, 
To feel supported by the Lord. 



SECRET COMFORT. 

While doomed to sojourn 'midst the scenes of time 
We meet with much that doth obscure the mind ; 
Much that is to our nature hard to bear 
And tends to drag our spirits to despair. 
Yet 'midst earth's ills there is a comfort sure 
Which doth through every change in life endure : 



142 NEVER SAFE. 

'Tis grace, convincing us there's One who knows 

How sharp the sting of our most secret woes, 

How prone we are in trial's gloomy hour 

To yield unconscious to the tempter's power. 

To sink in dark despondency and fear. 

Unmindful of our Helper being near. 

Whose might and will doth in His way and time 

Grant strength, through faith, life's rugged hill to climb, - 

Strength to believe His promises are true 

And all our wants lie open to His view. •• 

By grace He breaks the sinner's stony heart, 

Shows him wherein he acts the erring part. 

Shows him his need of coming unto God, 

And offers pardon through the Saviour's blood; 

By grace He whispers to the mournful where 

They may their griefs assuage through faith and prayer ; 

By grace He points the path we should pursue. 

Renews our strength appointed work to do ; 

To meekly bear all that besets our way 

And wait in patience His own chosen day 

Of kind deliverance from mortal gloom, 

To bask in joys which lie beyond the tomb. 

What more could helpless beings ask than this ? — 

Support while here, and guidance into bliss. 

Then, soul, be thankful for the blessings given, 

Nor murmur on thy toilsome course to heaven. 



NEVER SAFE. 



While earnestly endeavoring to accomplish a piece 
of fancy knitting, the order of which had to be accurately 



NEVER SAFE. 



143 



sustained; — or the figure designed to be represented be- 
came deranged, — I, on examination, when apparently 
near the close of the task, discovered a mistake had been 
made, which could not be rectified by any other means 
than by taking out the work a sufficient distance to re- 
move the defect, on which account I sadly murmured. 
Never safe until entirely completed ! The weight of the 
expression instantly touched my heart, clearly developing 
to my understanding the resemblance that work bore to 
my own mental state. I sensibly felt the language, Never 
safe ! might be applied in a spiritual sense to mankind in 
general. In every place, in every state, and at every 
rational period of life, these instructive words appeared 
peculiarly applicable. 

Every reflecting mind will admit we are never safe from 
the snares of Satan until our earthly career is entirely com- 
pleted. So irresolute is human nature, so prone to indulge 
our innate propensities, however evil in their character, 
that we are constantly in danger of committing mistakes, 
by thought, word, or deed, which much deface the beau- 
tiful order of true Christianity, and are mistakes which 
cannot be rectified by any other means than by retracing 
our course, and with renewed attention avoiding commis- 
sion of similar mistakes in future. The enemy of our 
soul's peace is aware, and ever ready to take advantage of 
our weakness by presenting apparently reasonable sugges- 
tions, more congenial to our erring, finite natures than the 
rebuking voice of wisdom ; therefore we are never safe in 
advancing with our spiritual work without frequently 
pausing to review past actions, that we may clearly per- 
ceive in what particular point we erred. In youth, mid- 
life, or old age this care is absolutely necessary, as we are 
at all times liable to indulge in occasional passions of 
levity, pride, avarice, jealousy, wrath, strife, malice, re- 



144 NEVER SAFE. 

sentment, fretfulness, murmuring, or repining, all of 
which, though small by name, are great mistakes in the 
course of every-day life, and will assuredly be recorded 
as such against us in the judgment-book on high. 
Many death-bed scenes furnish confirming evidence of our 
never being safe, as it is not uncommon on such occasions 
to see the sinking sufferer tempted, even until his latest 
hour, with apprehensive doubts and reasonings of the 
mercy of our heavenly Father toward His creature man ; 
it is not uncommon to see him tried in this manner to an 
extent that renders his enfeebled powers almost incapable 
of discerning one gleam of faith by which he can hope 
to hold his head above the heaving billows of Jordan, 
whose frightful roar is every moment sounding. Never 
ready ! to waft his spirit into untried eternity. 

Pilgrim, canst thou find one spot 

In all this world below, 
Where temptations enter not 

Nor streams of danger flow ? 
Canst thou find one hiding-place 
Safe from Satan's luring face? 
Methinks thou dost answer, no ; 
Safety is not found below. 

Pilgrim, dost thou look above 

For strength in danger's hour? 
There alone doth perfect love 

Reign with availing power. 
On the throne the Lamb of God 
Ever pleads His dying blood, 
Erring mortals to redeem : 
For thy safety trust in Him. 

THE END. 














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